Secret
by CitrineMama
Summary: Can I... take your car?" Sam's eyebrows were nearly at his hairline as she eyed the impala keys in front of Dean. "Brie?" She looked over at Sam, silently pleading for his support. "I have a date." There, she'd said it.
1. Chapter 1

The two men were sitting out in the war room at one of the tables. Dean, as usual, had his feet up on the table, nursing along some whiskey in a glass tumbler and Sam sat across from him, his hazel eyes focused the laptop in front of him when Brielle breezed into the room. Dean's eyes moved to the brunette immediately, moving up from her nude heels to her tanned legs to her white sundress. "Where are you going dressed like that?" His tone held a hint of suspicion and she slipped on her jean jacket over her bare shoulders.

Brielle's eyes moved to Dean's and he quirked an eyebrow, awaiting her response. Her dark hair was down, falling in waves around her shoulders, something she did very rarely. "I was gonna grab some lunch out..." Sam watched the exchange between his older brother and his friend quietly.

Dean considered that before downing the rest of the amber liquid and setting the glass down. "I could eat." He started to get up and Brielle looked over at Sam, somewhat unnerved. Sam's eyes narrowed a bit as Brielle shifted her purse from one shoulder to the other.

"I was gonna go by myself." Brielle eyed the keyring on the wooden table in front of Dean as he froze, glancing at Sam. "Can I... take your car?" He stood up the rest of the way, folding his arms across his chest.

Sam's eyebrows nearly reached his hairline now. "Brie?" Brielle sighed defeatedly, her eyes meeting his, silently pleading for his support.

"I have a date." _There, she'd said it._

Dean was still standing there, his eyes on the young woman in front of them. "A date? You... have a _date_?" That comment earned him a dirty look.

"Is that so hard to believe?" She sassed Dean and his expression softened somewhat, giving her goosebumps.

"That's not... what I meant," His voice was quiet. "Who's the guy? When did you even have time to meet someone?" Dean's older brother tone made Sam smile; for once it wasn't directed at him.

"At the gas station the other day..." Brielle paused when Dean studied her features for signs of deception, but came up empty. "You went inside to pay and he pulled into the pump next to us... liked your car... asked for my number."

Dean eyed her closely before reaching for his keys. "Just for the record, I don't like this." He dangled the keyring in front of her. When Brielle reached for them, Dean pulled them just out of reach. "I'm gonna go with you." Her chocolate eyes were trained on the older man in front of her.

"Dean!" Brielle whined.

"I wanna make sure you're safe."

"I'll be fine." She made a grab for the keys and he smirked at the height difference between them. "Damnit Dean."

"Let me tail you. We don't know this guy and it might not be safe." Sam leaned back in his chair to watch the two people he cared about more than anything banter back and forth. He knew Dean was going to cave, but not without giving her shit first.

Brielle tweeked his nipple through his thin tshirt and he hissed, her fingers snatching the keys. That move made Sam laugh out loud. "Dean, please. I have been holed up with you guys for a year." Pause. "A girl has... needs."

Dean's jaw dropped. " _That's_ why you went out yesterday and got your hair cut and the manicure and the wax..." That actually made him blush at the thought of the brunette getting her most intimate areas groomed. Sam chuckled at his brother's sudden loss for words. "Brielle..."

She eyed him suspiciously, her steely eyes studying him closely. "How... did you know I got a wax?" Sam shifted in the chair, eyeing his older brother curiously. Dean immediately got all flustered, which was completely out of character for him and shook his head. "Dean?"

"I saw the reciept, alright?" His cheeks flushed slightly, which was even rarer for him. "And _stop_ changing the subject."

"Thanks for the car. I'll take care of her." Brielle's fingers tugged on his tshirt and pulled him down for a kiss on his stubbled cheek. "I'll be careful. Promise."

"Leave your phone on." Sam kissed her cheek when she leaned down when she passed by him and the boys watched her walk to the garage, her heels clicking down the hallway.

"I don't like this." Dean hissed at Sam. "I'm gonna follow her."

Sam held up a hand. "Dean, let her go. She's fine. I'll text her in a little while." He smirked at his brother's lost expression. He pushed his laptop closed. "Why do you care?"

"I don't."

"Liar."

"Shuddup."

The date was nice. Nathan had taken Brielle to a movie and then out for coffee and a slice of pie at a local diner. They talked for an hour before he finally had to get going because he had to work night shift. Nathan walked her to Dean's car and kissed her softly before heading to his own truck and pulling out of the diner parking lot.

Brielle climbed inside the impala and sighed tearfully, putting the key into the ignition. Yes, he'd had been a perfect gentleman and she just needed... _release_. Her head fell back against the leather headrest and she turned the key, feeling the engine roar to life before she shifted gears, pulling out onto the road to head back to the bunker.

It had been three hours since Brielle had taken off on her date and Dean was pacing the main room in the bunker. He froze when he heard the domed door open and close, then the clicking of high heels. "Brielle?"

"Yeah." She sounded pissed off and he watched her walk down the curved staircase and set down her purse and his keys next to the antique lamp on the lighted table. Her eyes didn't quite meet his and the older man half leaned, half sat on the table.

"How'd it go?"

"Fine."

"Fine?"

"He was a _perfect_ _gentleman_." The way she said it made his brow wrinkle.

"Is... that bad?" Dean saw her arms cross over her chest, pulling the material down taut, a hint of her pale yellow bra showing.

"No."

Dean wet his lips. "You didn't want him... to be a gentleman?"

That made tears sting her eyes. She was so sexually frusterated and he obviously didin't understand that. He saw her getting even more upset and Brielle suddenly felt his arms came around her shoulders in a warm hug and he felt her sigh and hug him back.

"Dean, I just..." Her whisper made him nod.

He murmured, finally understanding now. "Sorry sweetheart. That's the worst."

Brielle pushed back from him and wiped her eyes. "I'm gonna go lay down." She picked up his freshly poured glass of whiskey and downed half of it before disappearing down the hallway.

Dean watched her go and sighed. He would love to just take her now, while his brother was out running errands, but that was Sam's good friend and he wanted to respect that.

spnspnspnspnspnspnspn

Brielle was in her room. She took off her earrings and her heels, putting them away before unzipping the side of her dress. She slipped it off and was standing there in her pale yellow lingerie, looking into the full length mirror she'd installed.

A knock on the door startled her and she pulled on a robe, tying it at the waist. The brunette pulled open the door to reveal Dean. "Yeah?" Brielle sounded sad.

"I'm sorry I gave you a hard time earlier." He was sincere and that made her smile a bit.

"Thanks. I'm sorry for being a bitch." Dean smiled at her. "And for tweaking your nipple."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah that was pretty low." Something about the way he said that made the blood rush to her groin. "I'll get you for that one."

"Yeah?" Her gray eyes darkened and he watched her expression. "I'll be waiting."

Dean swallowed hard and eyed her. "Brielle?"

"Yes?"

"I'll be in my room if you need... anything." Her eyes slid down to the hunter's pouty lips for a split second. "Alright?" Her eyes closed then and she nodded. "Sorry about your date."

"Thanks." Her voice was breathy and he nodded before ducking out of there before something happened. The door closed behind him and she turned, leaning her back against it.

Brielle removed her lingerie and slipped on one of Dean's old tshirts and a pair of pajama pants. Yes, it was only four in the afternoon, but she felt like sleeping. She crawled into her bed and wiggled inder the covers after pulling her vibrator out of the false bottom in the nightstand drawer.

She slid down her pants and sighed. She was so horny and this had been it for the last year. She was never out of Sam and Dean's sight for very long and the lack of sexual contact was making her crazy. And bitchy.

Brielle closed her eyes and pictured Dean, something she'd been doing for awhile. If he knew she got herself off to the thought of him, Dean would _never_ let her live it down.

The look on his face was unreadable today, when she confessed that she had a lunch date. Almost like he was jealous. But he would never go for someone like her and she damn well knew it.

Dean sighed as he headed towards his room. He had to force himself to leave her room before he made a move that she would give into and probably regret. His jeans were getting extremely tight and he decided on a shower.

He turned on the water and stripped down, taking a deep breath in the steamy bathroom before he shoved the plastic curtains aside. Dean's hand wandered south as his thoughts strayed to the brunette down the hall. Fuck, knowing she was sexually frusterated and just down the hallway alone made him hard. He stroked gently, thinking about getting back out of the shower and going back into her room and getting her off until she didn't know her own name.

 _Not appropriate, Dean._

 _But she's so sexy_ , the devil on his left shoulder reminded him. Her figure was curvy and he knew Brielle thought she was too heavy, but he loved seeing her breasts bounce when she walked. And just the thought of her freshly waxed brought him to the edge and sent him spiraling over, his breathing heavy as he released his own frusteration.

Brielle rolled over and wiped the lube off her vibrator and placed it back in its hiding place before sliding her pajama pants back up over her hips. That hadn't sated her in the least. If anything, the ache in the pit of her stomach got even worse.

 _I'll be in my room if you need... anything._

Fuck, did she need something.

Her legs carried her down the hallway and she heard the shower running. Brielle paused before she knocked and heard Dean answer. "Yeah?"

"I just need to pee."

"I'm in the shower. You can come in if you want." She opened the unlocked bathroom door and a cloud of steam hit her. Brielle looked at the shower, wetting her lips at the thought of him naked on the other side of the vinyl curtain.

She used the toilet quickly and closed the lid. "Will you flush when you get out? I don't wanna give you the cold water." She heard him chuckle.

"I'm done." The water turned off and Brielle reached out to flush the toilet. She saw him pull the white towel he'd slung over the curtain over to his side.

Brielle snapped out of it and moved to wash her hands, her eyes on the mirror, watching him as he stepped out, towel around his waist. He moved up next to her to put on his deodorant and raked a hand through his damp messy hair. His green eyes met her in the mirror as he decided against shaving, running a tanned hand over his chin.

Brielle gave him a small smile as she turned to leave the bathroom and he spoke. "Brielle? You sure you're okay?" That made her stop on her way to the door.

"Yeah." She was still standing there, her back to him. Dean watched her pause in the mirror over his shoulder. "No."

"What's up?"

"I just..." Brielle squeezed her eyes shut. "Dean, I know Sam and I are good friends, but..."

"But what?"

"I just need..."

Dean set down his deodorant on the countertop. "Something you can't ask him for?" Brielle turned around, her eyes downcast.

"Yeah." He turned to face her and saw her avoiding his eyes. "I know you've probably never looked at me twice..." Dean crossed the bathroom and cupped her face in his calloused hands, forcing her eyes to meet his.

"I always think about you when I get myself off." His voice was an octave lower now and that was definately the last thing Brielle thought would come out of those sinful lips. Dean leaned in and brushed his lips to hers. "My room?"

He never took his towel off, just led the brunette to his bedroom, his fingers linked in hers, and closed the door behind him. "Brielle, before we do this," Dean paused, gaining her full attention. "Sam doesn't have to know. This can just be between us." His hands moved to her hips, his thumbs slipping under the hem of her thin tshirt. "Okay?"

"Thank you." Her breathy voice was enough to make him crazy. Brielle shivered when he slid the tshirt up her torso and slipped it off.

"Fuck." His right thumb and forefinger went to her nipple, eliciting a soft moan. Dean leaned in and ghosted a kiss to her neck. "Let's see that wax job. I've been thinking about it for the last two days, sweetheart." Brielle slid her pajama pants down and he growled softly at the sight. "Lay down on my bed."

Brielle's trembling legs carried her to the bed and she let Dean move her to sit at the edge of the bed. "Lay back." He knelt down and she whimpered and he had a predatory look in his eyes when he spread her thighs apart. Dean could feel her trembling. "Sweetheart, just relax." His tone was soft, but firm.

"I'll try." She spoke softly, up on her elbows, watching him.

His warm hands moved to her hips, smoothing down her thighs to the backs of her knees. Dean yanked her knees forward suddenly and Brielle yelped in surprise. "Dean."

He blew softly on her most intimate area and she moaned softly. _Nothing_ could have prepared her for his hot mouth on her core, gently nipping and sucking as he went. "Fuck Dean." Her dirty mouth only encouraged him. He added a finger, then two before she got off with a curse, her fingers delved into his damp hair.

Dean kissed the inside of her thigh, nuzzling his scruff against her skin, making her shiver. He shifted so he could look at her. Her chest was heaving and she was struggling to catch her breath. "You okay babe?" His gravelly voice made her nod slightly. "Good." He started on her again and got her off a few more times, extremely pleased with the way her body responded to his touch.

"Dean," She breathed, her hands shaking as they came up to clutch her own wavy hair, splayed out on his bed. "Oh my gosh. You have a fucking talented mouth." The unfiltered compliment made him chuckle. "Fuck."

He moved up next to her, laying on his side, towel still on. Her chocolate eyes opened and she turned to face him as he dragged the back of his hand over his mouth and chin slowly. "You're a squirter." That made her blush and she closed her eyes, embarassed. "Sweetheart, that's so sexy. I've never been with anyone who did that." Her eyes opened and his green eyes were dark with want.

"No?" Dean's right hand moved to cup her breast and his mouth took a suckle as she watched him. "Mm, I love that." He smirked at her and let go of her nipple. "Kiss me." Dean's eyebrow quirked. "I don't mind that you did that first." He shifted and his lips met hers, soft at first then more demanding. Her hands explored his hard body, now within her reach. He felt her reach down and tug at the towel until he was free. "Fuck Dean, I wanna look at you."

Dean moved back and rolled over and she yanked the towel away from him and gazed down at his body. Her left hand wrapped around his cock and she moaned softly, her thumb smoothing over the velvety soft head, her eyes moving to his as she stroked him slowly, making his jaw clench. "Brie," He grunted softly. His cock twitched in her hand and Dean looked at her, shocked.

"You don't have to." He knew most woman didn't enjoy doing that.

"Damn Dean, no wonder you're such a cocky bastard." Her snark ended with her taking him into the soft, wet confines of her dirty mouth. His eyes rolled back and he had to control himself or he was never going to get to fuck the sexy woman on her knees in bed with him. "Dean, let me know when you're gonna come." Then she started again.

"Yeah," He breathed and she continued her magic, massaging his balls as she worked him over, occasionally making eye contact with him as she laved her tongue over the sensitive veins in his shaft. "Fuck, Brie... I'm gonna-," He tried to pull back so he could blow his load into the towel but she shoved him away and swallowed every drop. He lay back, his heart pounding in his chest and she lay down next to him. "Damn Brielle."

"I'm gonna go grab a shower." She got up and grabbed her clothes. "Thanks, Dean." Before he could speak, Brielle was out the door and he heard the shower start down the hallway a few seconds later. He sat up and looked at his comforter with a smirk. He wrapped the towel around his waist and pulled the blanket off his bed and headed down the hall to throw it in the washer.

"Guys?" Sam's voice floated down the hall a few moments and Dean looked up from his jeans, zipping them up and slipping on a shirt. "I'm back. I have food."

"Coming." Dean called and he walked by the bathroom, the door still closed. "Sammy's back." He tapped on the door and it opened, the light turning off. She was back in her pajamas and her eyes moved to meet his. He couldn't read her expression.

"I'll be down in a second." He watched her cross the hallway and go into her bedroom before he headed down to the living area.

"Hey," Sam was setting some grocery bags down on the lighted table. "I got our dry cleaning too. There's some more bags in the car." Dean nodded and slipped on his shoes. "Brielle back?"

"Yeah, she was just grabbing a shower." Dean spoke and his brother nodded.

"How'd her date go?"

"She had fun." Was all Dean said and Sam nodded, a smile on his face before the two men walked back upstairs to get the dry cleaning and the rest of the groceries.

"Hey Brie," Sam kissed her temple and she hugged him when they came back inside. "How'd your date go?"

"It was nice." Was all she said. Sam nodded and they started to put things away. "What do you guys want for dinner?" She looked over at Dean, who was wearing a sexy smirk and she gave him a hard look. "Sammy?"

"How about some pork chops?" She nodded and got to work, cutting some potatoes and carrots and stuffed the chops with cheese and mushrooms and turned on the oven to preheat.

Dean was sitting at the table, watching her and she gave him a quizzical look. He watched Brielle move around the bunker kitchen, an apron on and her hair pulled back. He was thinking about the events that transpired only an hour before. Brielle put the vegetables and foil covered chops into the oven and closed the door before turning around to find Dean's emerald eyes still trained on her. "What?"

"Nothing." His voice was softer somehow and she looked pointedly at Sam, who was sitting on the couch, then back to Dean. "Talk later?"

"Fine." Talking was the last thing Brielle wanted; actually, catching feelings was the last thing she wanted. She took off her apron and skirted around the table to sit next to Sam on the leather couch, his right arm coming around her. Dean got up to make a pot of coffee. It was nearing 7pm and he didn't want to be buzzed when he and Brielle spoke privately later.

Dinner was ready just before 8pm and they ate in front of the tv. Sam loaded the dishwasher and Brielle smiled at him gratefully. "Thanks, Sammy."

"Thanks for dinner. You're amazing." He leaned down to kiss the top of her head. "I'm gonna grab a shower and head to bed. Dean, lock up?" He looked to his brother, who nodded. The younger man left the room and Dean moved from the table, pushing his chair in before going to check the doors and turn on the alarm system.

Brielle walked down to her room and lit a candle in her bedroom before she went to brush her teeth. Dean came down the hallway and paused in the bathroom doorway, his eyes on hers in the mirror. "I'm gonna change, then I wanna talk to you." Pause. "I'll be down in a few minutes." She nodded and he left.

Brielle rinsed her mouth out and walked down to her room again. The vanilla candle's scent was pleasant and she closed the door most of the way. She heard Dean moving around before he appeared in her doorway in low riding pajama pants. "Hey,"

"Hey," She moved to close the door when he stepped inside her bedroom. Sam didn't need to know about this. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk about this afternoon." He almost sounded confused and Brielle sat down on her bed. "Today was... amazing. I hope you felt the same way." Dean paused. "I just wanted to know... if this was a one time thing, or..." That made Brielle's eyes widen.

"Do you... want it to be more than one time?" Dean didn't answer and she got up to pace.

"I mean," Dean ran a nervous hand over his mouth. "I would be down with that."

Her eyebrow quirked. "If we... did this on a semi-regular basis... are you going to be... exclusive?" Dean considered that for a second.

"I haven't slept with anyone in 8 months, maybe longer." His green orbs were on hers and she let out a breath she'd been holding a few seconds longer that normal. "So, yeah. Exclusive."

The brunette moved her eyes and considered his words. "So this is just sex, nothing else, right?"

Dean gave her a look. "Yeah, of course."

The way he said it made her eyes snap to his. "Because I don't want any feelings to be involved, Dean." His eyebrow quirked this time at her very frank statement.

"Just sex..." It almost sounded like a question. "And Sam doesn't need to know." Dean confirmed.

"Right." Brielle agreed; she and Sam had been friends since college; Jess was her best friend and after her death, Sam and Brielle had gotten close. So close in fact, that he confessed everything about his old life to her. Brielle turned to pull back her comforter. "I'm gonna hit the hay." Dean was still standing there just inside her doorway. "Anything else?"

"I guess not." Dean eyed her closely. "Night." He moved to her and hugged her tight for a couple seconds before leaning in to peck her cheek.

"Night."


	2. Chapter 2

_Seven weeks later..._

 _His right hand stayed put on her hip as they kissed softly in the darkness. Brielle had been dozing lightly when Dean had crept into her room an hour earlier. He'd snuggled up next to her and pulled her close to him. They'd been making out for a little while, like a couple of teenagers until she pulled back, somewhat breathless. "Dean?"_

 _"Yeah?" He nuzzled her neck, his scruff making her shiver. Dean chuckled softly. "Brie?" He kissed her collarbone and she lost all train of thought._

 _"Nothing." They started kissing again and at some point, the kisses got lazier until they both drifted off._

Sam's eyes were focused on his laptop on the table in front of him in the war room when he heard the shuffle of slippers coming up the hallway. He smiled a bit to himself before he raised his eyes to the doorway when the brunette shuffled in, still in her pajamas.

"Morning." Her voice was soft and quiet. Brielle pushed her wavy hair back, her eyes meeting his only briefly before she moved behind him. Sam patted her forearm as she leaned over to hug around his neck and plant a kiss on his cheek. "You want something to eat?"

"That'd be great." Brielle let him go and headed towards the kitchen. "Brie?" She froze. "You alright?" The potential case he was looking over was momentarily forgotten.

"I'm fine." Brielle closed her eyes, her back to him. Sam could always read her like a book. Before he could delve any further, she spoke. "I didn't sleep well. Cramps, y'know?" Dean entered the room then, yawning softly. Brielle moved down the two steps and towards the kitchen. Sam's eyes moved from the doorway at the west end of the room to his older brother as he moved by him, ruffling his longish hair.

"Morning Sammy." Sam smoothed his hair down, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Morning." Dean glanced at the doorway where Brielle had disappeared into before he looked at Sam. "Coffee's on."

Dean nodded and headed in the same direction that Brielle had gone.

Her eyes closed when she felt a presence behind her.

 _Dean_.

"Morning," His voice was even lower in the morning and her eyes fluttered closed. "Can I get a cup of coffee, sweetheart?" Brielle nodded and reached for another mug. His hands moved to the stinless steel countertops on either side of her hips, boxing her in. "I'm _exhausted_ for some reason." _Was he seriously openly flirting with her?_

Brielle shied away from him to pour three mugs of coffee, careful to avoid his touch. "Yeah, well, _sometimes_ you just can't get a good night's sleep around here." Her eyes finally met his. His eyes were twinkling a bit.

"You making breakfast?"

"I was going to..."

"You need any help?"

"Yeah, you can take _this_ ," Brielle handed the white mug to Dean. "In to your brother."

His face fell a bit. "That's all?"

"Yep." Brielle busied herself turning on the gas stove and setting a cast iron skillet onto the blue flames, turning her back to him. She heard him reach for his own mug and leave the kitchen, leaving her alone with her thoughts. The butter sizzled when it hit the pan a moment later and she focused on cutting open the bacon package with a knife from the block when Sam startled her from behind when he came in to ask her something. Her knife slipped and Brielle sliced into her left index finger. "Shit."

"Brie?" Sam's hand was on hers almost immediately, inspecting the cut. Tears stung her eyes and he saw her emotion. "Come here. Dean?" He called out into the doorway and his older brother appeared a few seconds later. "Hey, will you make breakfast? Brielle needs couple stitches here." Brielle watched Sam inspect her finger again, not daring to meet Dean's gaze.

"Sure."

"C'mon." Sam walked Brielle down the hallway to the bathroom.

Sam stitched up her finger carefully as Brielle sat on the bathroom countertop, watching him as he worked. "You seem off lately." He lamented quietly.

"I'm just tired." Sam felt her wince as the needle pierced her skin and he tugged gently to smooth the stich.

"I'm fine."

Sam tied off the silk string in a tiny knot and trimmed off the end. "I'll take these out next week." His hands closed up the first aid kid. " _I'm tired_ is Winchester code for something's wrong and I wanna avoid the issue and pretend like it's gonna go away." His warm hazel eyes moved to hers as he snapped the metal box shut. "Since when did you start lying to me, Brie?" That made tears well up in her eyes.

His hazel eyes focused on her, making her even more nervous. They'd known one another since they studied at Stanford years earlier. She was also a law student also at one point, but had gotten involved with Sam after Jessica's death, leaving her life behind. She'd instead finished her minor in biblical studies before they reconnected and she'd wound up with them in the bunker. Sam's features softened. He was going to press her for details. "What's going on?" His tone had changed to a more gentle one and the guilt she felt suddenly slammed into her chest.

"Nothing." Brielle couldn't look at him. He cleared his throat, waiting until she glanced up at him until he spoke.

"We've known each other for along time now. There's nothing you can't tell me, Brie." Sam's arms came around her and she felt him hug her close, tears stinging her eyes. She felt him kiss her hair and Brielle was trembling.

"I am tired." That part was true. "I miss... having a normal life sometimes, y'know?" Sam smiled, somewhat sadly. He felt her arms come around his neck. Brielle had been living at the bunker with them for almost 14 months now. She had helped with research on whatever case popped up, but she was adament on her no hunting rule. That basically left her with spending her days at the bunker and rarely leaving. That date she had almost two months before she and Dean started sleeping together was a rarity; her even meeting that Nathan guy was a one in a million chance. They'd stopped at a gas and sip outside Lebanon on their way back from town to get groceries and when Dean had left her in the passenger seat to go in and pay for gas, that's when she was approached. She'd lied, of course, and said that Dean was her brother.

They were quiet for a couple minutes, each lost in thought. "I just have a hard time realizing that this..." Brielle paused, her eyes moving around the bathroom. "Is my life now." He made a face and she sighed softly. When Sam let her go, he was surprised to see tears in her eyes.

"Come on Brie," Sam leaned in to kiss her forehead. "You'll be alright. Come on." He straightened and helped her down from the counter. The brunette let herself be led down the hall to the kitchen.

Dean looked up from the bacon he was frying to see a visibly upset Brielle pass by the bunker kitchen followed by Sam. Dean's heart dropped into his stomach; what the hell had they just talked about that had her so tearful? Sam gave him a tight lipped smile as he passed by the doorway. "Sammy?"

"Can you finish up here? I'll wash the dishes." Was all he said.

"Of course."

Brielle couldn't help the silent tears now as Sam joined her in the war room. The chair next to her was dragged out from the table and he sat down next to her. She closed her eyes when she felt his hands take one of hers. "I'm so sorry Sam."

"You don't have to be sorry." The soft tone he always used with her made her chest tight. Brielle opened her eyes to focus on the man in front of her. "Eat some breakfast, hm? You'll feel better."

"I'm gonna go lay down." Brielle rose suddenly, not wanting Dean to come in there and see her like this. "I'll be okay." She said that more to convice herself than Sam. His studious gaze raked over her again before she disappeared down the hallway towards the sleeping quarters. Yes, she was upset; Brielle hadn't technically been lying to Sam, but omiting the truth was just the same. It was true, however, that she was sad over not having some normal life. That was some of the reason that she made Dean agree that their whole arrangement was strictly sex.

Dean came in then, carrying two plates of eggs and turkey bacon. "Where's Brielle?" He tried to keep his tone casual.

"She went to go lay down for a little while."

He set the plates down. "Is she okay? I mean," Sam's eyes snapped to his. "She looked upset." Dean averted his eyes and pushed the plate to his brother. "I'll put her food away for later, if she feels like it." He got uncomfortable and went back to the kitchen to put away the rest of the food and pour two glasses of orange juice.

Sam waited until Dean sat back down before he spoke. "What's going on? Did you two argue or something?" That made him nearly choke on his orange juice.

"We haven't fought about anything."

"You sure about that?" Dean gave Sam a pointed look.

"Yes."

"Okay." He let the matter drop.


	3. Chapter 3

Five days later...

Her eyes widened when Dean's gaze slid to her after Sam had disappeared into the bathroom to wash up after their salt and burn, the cheap pressed wood door closing behind him.

It was a simple case and Sam had insisted that she tag along for the overnight hunt. It was the first case she'd ever gone on with the boys and they were shacking up in some creepy ass budget motel for the night. Being with the two men made her feel safe to some degree, but she knew better that to let her guard down completely. After all, Brielle now knew what was out there lurking in the darkness, thanks to the Winchesters.

The older man's sexy little smirk made her heart skip a beat. "Dean, Sam's in the shower... we can't." They both paused as the shower water turned on a few seconds later.

"C'mon..." He approached her, his warm, calloused hands finding her hips. Dean nuzzled her neck with his scruff, making her moan softly. He moved his hand to her lower back and pressed her pelvis into his, his want for her apparent. "Sam'll be a few minutes..."

The sex was quick and rough, just the way she liked. Brielle was pulling her pajama pants up as the water was turned back off in the bathroom and she and Dean shared a look before he shoved the tshirt he'd used to clean up with into the laundry bag. Sam came out a few seconds later, the light clicking off. He was toweling his hair and he sank down on the queen bed near the door where Brielle was sitting.

She got under the covers and Sam got in next to her, closest to the door. It almost felt strange to sleep with him; Brielle had gotten extremely accustomed to the rythym of Dean's deep breathing and the scent of him. Dean pulled on a tshirt and got into the other bed, reaching out to turn off the lamp. "Night." His eyes met hers before the room was bathed in darkness.

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Brielle showered when they returned to the bunker from the hunt; she's started her period a few hours after she and Dean had hooked up in the motel room, thank goodness.

The brunette left her hair up in a messy bun. She clicked the light off in the bathroom before walking across the hallway in a bath towel towards her room to slip on some clean clothes.

Dean looked up from the table where he was seated in the library and pulled off his headphones when he caught sight of the young woman leaving the bathroom. "Brielle?" She turned to look at him and Dean nodded to a white plastic bag on the table. "Got ya some supplies." She turned to walk down the hall towards him and was surprised to find Sam sitting opposite Dean at the table as well. Brielle blushed a bit before opening the plastic bag to reveal two boxes of tampons and some chocolate bars. Sam watched her eyes move to back to Dean, smiling at him somewhat shyly.

"Thank you," Her voice softened and Sam watched his brother smile softly at her before she took the bag out of the room, heading towards her bedroom. The two men watched her leave the room, her barefeet making no noise as she departed.

"How," Sam turned to Dean, turning his coffee mug slightly. "Did you even know what to buy?" His question had somewhat of an accusatory undertone and Dean looked at his younger brother sharply, his eyebrows narrowed.

"How do you _not_ know? We all use the same bathroom and she's lived here with us for over a year, Sam." Was his defensive reply. Dean had driven the trio back to the bunker before heading back out for some gas and Brielle's supplies.

Sam considered that, relaxing somewhat. That was true, he supposed; even he knew she used some brand that had a mostly pink box. He'd seen them himself under the sink several times. "Nice touch with the chocolates, by the way." That made Dean smile a bit, his eyes moving back to the movie he was watching on Sam's laptop, replacing his headphones.

The lack of a response from Dean made Sam grin at the very thought of his grunt of an older brother buying feminine products at the drug store for the woman he was almost sure Dean had feelings for.

Things like this were exactly why Sam had his suspicians about the way his brother and his good friend had been looking at one another lately. He would catch them almost having a silent conversation with their eyes and he would blink and the moment was gone before he could even ask.

Dean and Brielle were almost never alone together, so Sam couldn't even fathom anything going on between them; they were such completely opposites.

But the nagging feeling was still there.

Yeah, alright, so Sam could definately tell something had changed between the two.

Like they'd argued over something.

Or, knowing Dean, hooked up.

He kept his mouth shut, though. Sam wanted to wait this out a bit before he asked anything else. He didn't want to piss off Dean, but Sam was a seemingly more afraid of pissing off his longtime friend. She held a mean grudge and while she was loyal to a damn fault, Brielle could be a hurricane when the conditions were right.

Sam supposed that's why they named storms after people.

Dean, however, had seemed calmer lately while Brielle was on the other end of the spectrum. She seemed to be wound tighter than usual. Dean had notably been drinking a lot less. Sam actually couldn't even remember the last time he'd heard Dean up pacing the halls in the middle of the night after waking up from a nightmare.

When Brielle returned to the war room a few moments later in her jeans and sweatshirt, the brunette's brown eyes went back and forth between the two men before she sat next to Sam, reaching for yesterday's newspaper. There was a palpable tension between the brothers and Brielle wasn't quite sure why.

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Later that evening, Dean was brushing his teeth when he heard Sam bid him goodnight as he passed by on the way to his room. "Night Sammy." He heard the door close.

Dean spat and rinsed before looking at his reflection in the mirror. He clicked off the light and walked down the hallway to Brielle's room. He reached out and pushed the door open slightly. "Sweetheart?" His whisper made her eyes open.

 _God, was he insatiable_ , she thought. "Yes?"

"Can I... come in?" He felt her hesitation in the darkness. "Brie?"

Dean heard her sigh softly. "I'm on my period." She saw him slip inside her room and close the door. "Dean? Did you hear me?" Brielle tried to keep the irritated tone out of her reply.

"I know." She felt him sit down on the left side of her twin bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. "I don't care." Her nose wrinkled at the thought of sex while on her period. Dean lifted up the covers before moving under them, settling in next to her. "Roll over, I wanna hold you." She was shocked and rolled to face the wall.

Dean's warm hand slid around her waist and he relaxed against her, no agenda at all. He sighed contentedly behind Brielle, making her lips curl up in a sleepy smile. He could smell her shampoo on the pillowcase and that always made him smile. He felt comfortable with her and thoroughly enjoyed whatever it was they had together and wondered when exactly, his brother would find out about them. "Night, sweetheart."

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Dean cleared his throat before he sipped his coffee, his green eyes on the brunette. Sam saw her glance at him briefly. "What's... going on?"

"Nothing." Dean and Brielle spoke at the same time. Sam's hazel eyes narrowed at them, unconvinced.

"Right." He looked to his longtime friend. Brielle turned off the heat and plated the eggs between two plates. She didn't bother to make a plate for herself and dropped the skillet into the sink before making a hasty exit from the kitchen. Dean and Sam shared a look before the younger man rose to follow her.

Brielle had closed the bathroom door and sat down on the floor, her knees bent, her back against the cabinet. "Brielle?" Sam knocked softly and pushed open the door. "You okay?"

"I'm okay." That part was true and she held her head. He squatted down next to her.

"You're not pregnant, right?" Sam was half joking and Brielle's chocolate eyes snapped to his.

"Don't be an ass." She bristled somewhat.

Sam held up his hands. "Fine. Why don't you let me take those stitches out for you?"

Brielle let him pull her to her feet and he got the fine pair of shears to carefully snip the neat little stiches he'd placed in her finger a few days prior. Brielle focused on his hands, avoiding his eyes and the corner of Sam's mouth turned up in a tiny smile. "You like avoiding shit, just like my brother."

"What am I avoiding, Sam?" That was a dangerous question and he glanced up to find her staring him down, waiting on his response.

"Talking about your feelings."

"You're such a girl."

That made Sam chuckle as he tugged on the string and cleaning the fresh pink skin. "Sounds familiar."

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Brielle heard Sam's bedroom door creak closed across the hall. She rolled over to look at her clock. It was nearly midnight and she sighed. Dean and Brielle had shared a bed nearly every night for the last eight months, the only exception was when the trio shared a hotel room. For some reason, she and Sam had always shared a queen, maybe because he'd known her the longest.

Ten long minutes passed before she got up carefully and opened her door part way. Silence met her ears and her bare feet crept across the cool hallway tiles. Dean's door was cracked and she slipped inside, closing the door most of the way.

Dean didn't say a word, just lifted up his sheet and comforter for the brunette to slip into his warm bed. His strong arm came around her and she sighed contentedly. "Dean?"

"Yeah sweetheart?" He felt her sigh softly before she whispered back.

"What are we doing?" His brow furrowed at her question.

"What do you mean?" Dean shifted behind her as she lay back, her gaze towards the ceiling, him above her. "Brie?"

"I mean..." The brunette felt a lump in her throat. "You and me... what is this?"

"You wanna define... what this is?"

"No... I just... I feel like... guilty for sneaking around behind Sam's back. I feel like he was looking at me today, trying to figure me out." Dean considered that carefully.

"Well, you wanna tell him about what we've been doing?" He whispered back, his rough hand splaying across her stomach. "Mm? Becuase that would even make me blush."

Her breath caught in his throat and he heard it. She didn't answer, just smiled in the darkness

He chuckled, but before he could speak, they heard Sam's door open. "Sammy?"

"Sorry. Just going to the bathroom." His brother called softly. They heard his bare feet pad past Dean's room. Brielle held her breath as he walked by. They heard the toilet flush and Sam's footsteps pause outside Dean's door. "Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You think Brielle's up?" Sam knew damn well that Brielle wasn't in her room. He'd paused outside his room, listening for the sounds of her soft breathing from inside her bedroom. Dean felt her grip his forearm.

"Nah," Dean called back softly. "She's probably asleep. Why... what's up?"

"Nothing." Sam could feel the tension from the other side of the door. "Night."

"I'm going back to my room." Brielle whispered a few seconds later. "Okay?" Dean leaned in to kiss her sweetly. "Night."

"Night."

Brielle got up carefully and listened for a second for any sign of Sam. She pushed the door open and slipped out. Instead of going to her room, she headed down the hall to the living area and flopped down on the couch. The brunette curled her feet up under herself and pulled a throw over her legs.

"Brielle?" Sam's voice startled her from the doorway a few moments later. He'd not gotten into bed; instead, he knew the brunette would get nervous and leave his brother's bedroom. Her throat got tight and she forced a smile.

Sam crossed the room after shutting down the main lights. He sat down next to her, his arm across the back of the couch behind her. The brunette relaxed into his side. "You alright? I thought you were asleep." His voice was gentle.

"I'm fine." She couldn't look at him. He cleared his throat, waiting until she glanced up at him until he spoke.

"You wanna sleep with me?" To his surprise, Brielle nodded softly. Sam was shocked; he was ninety nine percent sure his good friend was sleeping with his brother and yet, she agreed to sleep in his bed. Sam settled in next to her and she rolled over, snuggling into his warm skin. "Night, Sammy."

"Sweet dreams," His lips brushed her forehead.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Sam woke up to find Brielle moving out of his bed. "Morning Brielle."

"Morning." She gave him a small smile over her left shoulder. "I was gonna get up and make you guys some breakfast before you took off." Sam yawned and stretched before sitting up and moving to the side of the bed next to her. Brielle leaned into him as he hugged her into his right side, kissing the crown of her hair.

"You wanna go with us to Texas?" He asked.

"No... I'll stay here."

"You sure?" Sam asked softly. Brielle nodded.

"C'mon, get dressed. Breakfast'll be ready in twenty." She patted his knee and got up, pulling his door open to leave his room. She almost ran right into Dean, who was already awake and dressed, duffle in his left hand.

"Morning," His voice was full of sleep, or lack thereof. His green eyes moved to his brother's doorway, then back to her. She simply shrugged and he nodded. They started down towards the kitchen.

"You want bacon and eggs?"

"Sounds great." He dropped his bag on the table in the war room before following her into the kitchen, sliding into one of the seats at the table. Dean watched her move around the bunker kitchen, first heating a pan before scooping out several spoonfuls of ground coffee into the filter before sliding it back in the slot. Her thumb smoothed across the button, turning the light from red to green

Brielle fried the whole pound of bacon first, flipping them a few moments later as the coffee pot began to sputter. He watched her pulled some sliced ham, swiss cheese and a head of lettuce from the fridge, setting everything on the countertop. Dean got up then and stepped up next to her, pulling down three mugs. She smiled up at him before pulling mayo out of the fridge.

He poured two coffees and fixed hers with milk and honey. "Thanks." She said softly and he smiled warmly.

Dean watched her assemble two sandwiches for their lunches and wrap them in tin foil. "Grab me a couple apples, will ya?" He did as she asked and watched her slice up the macintosh apples before diving them between two sandwich bags. She bagged up some celey sticks as well, even though Dean scowled a bit next to her. She elbowed his side playfully, making him smile.

Brielle pulled the cooler onto the countertop to pack with ice packs. She put napkins, the apple slices and the baggies with the celery inside along with two bottles of water before closing it firmly. Dean reached up to pull a bag of pretzels on top of the blue cooler to eat with their sandwiches. She smiled a bit to herself before pulling the bacon out of the cast iron skillet to drain on a paper towel lined plate.

Dean pulled the eggs out of the fridge and cracked six of them into the bacon grease for her. They sizzled when they hit the hot pan and he hummed a bit. Brielle washed her hands in the sink and leaned against the counter as she dried them with the dishtowel, watching the gorgeous man next to her poke at the edges of the eggs with the metal spatula. He gave her a pointed look before Brielle pushed off the countertop, reaching for the loaf of bread.

She moved by him to put four slices of rye into the toaster and push down the lever. "Juice?"

"Sounds great." Brielle moved by him again and his right arm reached out to pull her against him for a few seconds. "I missed you last night." Her cheeks burned and he chuckled, pressing a kiss to her hair before his hold on her lessened some. "Did my brother ask you anything?" Dean's tone was gentle.

"No," She wiggled out of his grasp, glancing back at the doorway. "He knew I didn't wanna talk, so we just laid there until we fell asleep." Brielle's voice was soft.

Dean eyed her closely, his green eyes twinkling. "Did you cuddle?" She punched his arm playfully, a smirk on her face.

"Yeah we cuddled. Don't be a hater."

Dean flipped the eggs and chuckled. "Right. I know you like cuddling with me more."

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Sam and Dean were getting ready to leave the bunker, their latest case bringing them to Witchita Falls, Texas. It was roughly an eight hour drive from the bunker and they wouldn't be returning that evening. "You sure you don't wanna come? We won't be back tonight." Sam offered again, but Brielle declined for the second time. She could feel Dean's gaze on her from behind Sam where he was loading up the trunk of the impala.

"I'll be fine here." Brielle hugged Sam tight and felt him squeeze her against his torso. "You guys be safe. Call me when you're done tonight so I know you're okay." He pulled back and pressed a kiss to the top of her head and the brunette nodded up at him.

Dean closed the trunk, his emerald gaze focusing on her completely now. "Don't answer that door for anyone, y'hear? You have your gun?" Sam moved to his side of the car before opening the passenger door, looking back at his friend and his brother a for a couple seconds. He smiled at Brielle somewhat ruefully before getting into the car and pulling his door closed behind him, the familiar creaked engrained in her mind.

Brielle nodded silently, her eyes moving from Sam to the man in front of her. "Be careful Dean." His expression softened and Sam watched Brielle hug his brother in the rearview mirror. He hugged her for a few seconds and said something Sam couldn't hear before pulling back, giving her a tightlipped smile.

The impala pulled out of the garage and Sam turned to look at his brother after he'd glanced back, making sure the door closed behind them. "What did you say to her?"

"What?"

"What you just said when she hugged you."

"I thanked her for making us lunch." He shot Sam a weird look before returning his attention to the windshield and the road out of the woods.

"She made us lunch?" Dean jerked a thumb in the direction of the backseat where the cooler sat and Sam's expression softened at the thoughtful gesture.

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"Beer for you," The redheaded waitress set the amber bottle in front of Sam. "Whiskey for you, darlin'," She batted her eyes at Dean. "Anything else I can do you for?" Sam smirked and Dean reached out for the glass tumbler, his calloused fingers turning the glass a bit, a small smile on his face.

"This'll do... thanks." He gave her a nod and her expression changed a bit before she flounced away. Dean took a sip of the amber fluid and Sam took a long pull from his beer before he spoke.

"That chick wanted you Dean." That made the older man chuckled softly, his eyes downcast.

"Well, I guess I'm not in the mood." They'd finished up the hunt before midnight and wound up at the bar next to the motel for their usual celebratory burgers and drinks. Sam coughed and set down his bottle, his hazel eyes wide. "Don't cough all over my food, man."

"You feelin' okay? I mean, I feel like splashing you with holy water right now." Dean took a bite of his bacon cheeseburger, quirking an eyebrow at his little brother as he chewed. "You're not in the mood for sex with some hot barfly?" He looked over his shoulder at the redhead, who was now wiping down the bar. Sam turned back to Dean, a smirk on his face. "Seriously?"

"What? Is that so hard to believe?" He set down his burger and picked up an onion ring, dragging it through the barbaque sauce that had dripped off his burger onto the plate. Dean took a bite, his eyes moving to the tv above Sam, a basketball game on.

"Yes," Sam was studying him closely. "You've slept with a million girls, Dean. Why not this one?" The older man shot him an incredulous look before taking another drink of his whiskey.

"Not quite a million, Sam."

That made Sam laugh. "So what's one more?"

"You like her? You sleep with her."

"Wow." Dean didn't say anything else; he was done with this conversation. He'd promised to be exclusive with Brielle and damn it, he meant it.

But he couldn't tell Sam that.

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"Hey Brie," His voice came over her phone and she breathed a sigh of relief. "We're done. Grabbed a bite to eat at the bar next door."

"What time will you be home tomorrow?"

"Well that depends..." Sam felt guilty as he baited her, his eyes moving to the motel's bathroom where the water was running.

"On what?"

"What time Dean gets back in the morning." That made her heart sink to her feet.

"What time he gets back in the morning?" Brielle repeated softly.

Sam's hazel eyes closed when he heard the tone of her voice change. "Yeah, some redheaded waitress at the bar threw some game his way... you know the rest." He felt bad about lying; Dean was actually in the shower when Sam called her, but he wanted to see if his suspicion held any substance.

"I know the rest." She sounded funny. "Hey, I'm gonna go. I'll see you guys tomorrow?"

"Sure thing. Love you Brielle."

"Love you too, Sammy." He hung up his phone when Dean's water shut off and he looked up in time to see his brother walk out in a towel.

"I'm gonna call Brie, let her know we're good." He kept his tone casual as he shuffled through his backpack for some clean clothes. Sam set his cell on the nightstand and watched his brother.

"Already did." Sam saw Dean pause for a second. "Did you wanna talk to her or something?"

"Nah, I'm good. Just wanted to let her know we were alright." He yanked on a tshirt and pulled on underwear under his towel before discarding it on Sam's bed.

"Night Jerk." Sam quipped, tossing the damp motel towel back at his brother. Dean shimmied on his jeans and left them undone before flopping onto the other bed.

"Night bitch."

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Brielle tossed and turned for an hour, unable to sleep. Before the phone call, she'd been relaxing on Dean's bed, but afterwards, she threw his pillow across the room before heading down the hall to her bedroom. She flopped on the twin bed, squeezing her eyes shut, fighting the urge to scream out in frustration.

Sam's words haunted her. Dean had _seriously_ just gone and screwed up their whole arrangement for some piece of ass he'd met in a sleazy bar?

She rolled over and eyed her nightstand before reaching over to open the drawer where she'd stashed a worn tshirt of Dean's. Brielle brought the well worn garment to her face and inhaled deeply. He'd showered and worn it to bed with her days before, peeling it off sometime during the night and then leaving her room in the morning before Sam got up.

"Damn him." She whispered as she gave in, letting the tears fall freely. How on earth had he managed to get under her skin like this? They had an arrangement and he'd broken it...

 _... and she had as well._

"Just sex." The brunette whispered to herself. She inhaled the scent of him before throwing the tshirt back in the top drawer with a sob soft. Brielle rolled over on her back before she sat up, deciding she needed to have a drink to settle her nerves.

 _Dean's old go to_ , she thought bitterly.

She wandered out into the war room, suddenly noting how empty the place felt without them. Brielle wrapped her arms around herself, only in her nightgown. She never walked around the bunker this underdressed when the guys were home, but tonight, she couldn't have cared less.

She poured four fingers of Dean's good whiskey and winced when she felt the first sip sting her throat. _Fuck him_ , she thought. _I'm gonna drink his good whiskey._

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A/N: Hey readers!

Thanks for all the PMs and reviews! Very much appreciated. Sorry if this is a bit short... split it into 2. Next chapter should be up within the next week or so. Have a beautiful week!

Citrinemama


	5. Chapter 5

"Brielle?" Sam's soft voice made one of her eyes squint open and immediately she closed it again. "Did you finish this?" _Why on earth was he shouting so loudly?_

"You're killing my ears." She murmured and rolled over, instantly regretting her slight movement. "Oh God, I'm gonna be sick." Brielle half moaned, her right hand going to her stomach.

Sam was quick to grab a small trashcan near his dresser to put near her on the left side of his bed. "Why are you in my room? And why is Dean's whiskey gone?" He sat down on the edge of his bed, eyeing the now empty glass bottle, concern threading its way into his tone. "Brielle."

"I was tired, so I laid here." Sam rolled his eyes at her slurred reasoning. "I'm never drinking again." He smirked and patted her hip. "Just leave me here to die, hm?"

Sam studied the brunette closely, noting her smeared mascara. He suddenly felt sort of guilty for lying to her on the phone about Dean's whereabouts the night before. "Brielle, I'm taking you down to your room. I don't need you puking in my bed."

"I'm not going any-," She burped softly, her other hand coming up to cover her mouth. "Anywhere." Sam shifted and scooped her up easily in his arms before standing up.

Dean was walking up the hall carrying his duffle and their laundry bag. His expression changed as he stopped in his tracks at the sight before him; his little brother was carrying a somewhat argumentative Brielle out of his bedroom and down the bunker hallway towards hers. "Let me down, Sammy."

Hazel met green briefly as he passed Dean. "No. You're laying down in your own room in case you get sick." He stepped aside as Sam moved past him, the brunette in his arms as he turned the corner.

Dean stared after them when all of a sudden, he heard a soft cough before the unmistakable sound of liquid hitting the tiled bunker floor made him wince. "Damnit." He heard Sam swear softly.

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Sam laid Brielle on her bed carefully before eyeing the small puddle of vomit around his feet that was soaking his socks. He carefully slipped off his socks and went to the bathroom, tossing them into the trashcan. He washed his hands before grabbing the half roll of paper towels off the edge of the sink and wiping off his feet before heading down to her room again.

Sam was squatted down, sopping up the sour smelling liquid off the floor by her bed when he felt his brother standing behind him in Brielle's doorway. "She alright?" Brielle was laying on her right side, her back to them. She was already snoring lightly and he looked up at Dean from where he was.

"Yeah, she's _great_." There was a hint of sarcasm in Sam's tone. "By the way, your whiskey's gone." Dean's eyes narrowed at that and he eyed Brielle before he spoke.

"The whole bottle?"

"Whatever was left." Sam tossed the sour smelling paper towels in the trashcan next to her nightstand. He rose, brushing by Dean to get a wet disinfectant wipe to finish cleaning up and returned a few seconds later. Dean had his arms crossed deep in thought, his eyes on the brunette in her nightgown, passed out asleep.

"Shit Sam... it's two in the afternoon. Why in the hell was she drinking like that?" His voice was quiet, concerned.

Sam squatted down again and the remaining sour smell was replaced with the lemony scent of the wet wipes. "I have no idea." He kept his eyes from Dean's, focusing on the task in front of him. Sam knew damn well that his brother could spot a lie from him a hundred miles away. "I'll let her sleep it off before I talk to her." He straightened. "Let's let her sleep, hm?"

Dean pushed off her doorframe where he'd been leaning. "Yeah." Sam tossed the wipes in the trash and clicked off her room light. They headed down towards the war room.

"I'm gonna grab a shower. Throw our laundry in?"

"Yeah."

The door closed behind Sam and Dean got their laundry bag and threw the smallish load in, poured some detergent and closed the lid. He cranked the dial to hot and pushed start. He wanted to go back down to the sleeping quarters and wake Brielle up and demand to know why she was being so wreckless.

But he knew he couldn't. Instead, Dean headed back to his room and flipped on the light. His bed was messed up a bit, like someone was laying in it after he'd made it yesterday morning. His pillow was laying on the floor at the other end of the room and suddenly, something dawned on him; was Brielle pissed off at him?

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Brielle groaned softly and rolled over, her head swimming with the movement. Why in the hell did she fell so awful?

 _Dean_.

That made her stomach upset to think about again.

 _That bastard_ , she thought. _Well, whatever this was, was definately over now._ He couldn't even respect her enough after the last several months of sleeping together. Dean had completely broken her trust and she was done.

She steeled herself to get up and sit at the edge of her bed, her head pounding. Brielle rose a moment later and headed towards the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth, her left hand on the wall to steady herself.

"Hey sunshine." Sam's soft voice made her sigh as she washed her hands before picking up her toothbrush. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest and amusement on his face. He'd come down to check on her and saw her heading towards the bathroom, albeit very slowly.

"I puked on you, didn't I?"

"You definately owe me a pair of socks." There was a smile in his answer.

Brielle squeezed some toothpaste on the end of her brush. "I'm sorry. That was stupid."

"Why'd you drink like that?"

Brielle sighed after she spat in the sink and turned the cold water on. "Sometimes I get inside my own head too much." Their eyes met in the mirror. "I'm so sorry, Sam." He watched her rinse her toothbrush off before reaching for her mouthwash to gargle. She spat again and wiped her mouth off with the handtowel. She turned to him, not meeting his eyes.

Sam wasn't quite sure how to broach the subject; he'd lied to her about his brother's whereabouts last night. Had she really been so effected that she'd drank herself sick? "C'mere," Brielle moved into his arms without hesitation. "You feel like dinner?" He leaned down, his chin was on the crown of her head. Sam smiled ruefully when he felt her flinch a bit. "No?"

"I'm gonna go lay back down... just had to get that taste outta my mouth." Brielle felt him kiss the top of her head before straightening to let her go. Her gray eyes met his for a quick moment. "I'm fine."

"Right. You keep saying that..." Sam knew something was bothering her. Everytime she didn't go on one of their hunting trips, they always came back to the bunker to freshly baked banana bread. The homey scent would waft up to the entrance and hit them as soon as they walked in.

But not this time.

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Dean heard the heavy clang of the cast iron skillet hit the stove as his brother started dinner. _So domestic_ , he smirked to himself as he walked down the hall to Brielle's room. He tried her door, but was surprised to find it locked. He tapped softly. "Brielle?" Dean strained his ears to hear some sort of movement.

She was laying on her bed and her gray eyes opened immediately upon hearing his voice.

But she didn't answer him.

Dean's strong hand jingled the doorknob again before giving up and she heard his footsteps fade down the hallway before suddenly, her phone vibrated next to her on the comforter. Brielle picked it up and thumbed it on.

"What?" Her tone was crabby.

"Hey... easy." He spoke quietly over the line, his eyes narrowing. "What's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I'm sleeping."

"Why'd you lock your door?" Dean was pacing his own room, phone to his ear.

"I'm tired, Dean. I'm hungover and I wanna sleep."

He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing. "Why in the hell were you drinking like that? Are you pissed off at me or somethin'?"

On the other end, she sighed. "I'm not... _anything_ at you, Dean."

"Can I still come down and lay with you tonight?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

"What?"

"Goodnight, Dean." Brielle hung up her phone and held down the power button until it turned off.

Dean had his hand on his hip as he tossed his phone in the middle of his bed. He ran a hand over his mouth and Sam appeared at his door a few second later. "Chicken okay for dinner?" He noted the bitchface his brother was currently sporting and raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah." Dean sounded grouchy and Sam just nodded, not wanting to press.

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A/N: Thank you thank you thank you for your reviews and PMs! They make my freaking day when I get an email alert. ;) You guys are amazing and I can't wait to post the next chapter. I work all day this Thursday, but I hope y'all have a happy Thanksgiving! -CitrineMama


	6. Chapter 6

Sam knew damn well Dean was brooding over something. He always acted like this when he was struggling with something, whether it was a tough hunt or some regret. He got defensive, moody and quiet. Dean had had three drinks already today, something he hadn't done in months.

The two men were sitting at the bunker table, the silence between them somewhat tense. The only sounds were the clinking of the ice in their tea and the gentle scrape of their utensils across the plates until Dean set his fork down a little harder than he should have. "We need anything? I'm gonna head out for a drive." Hazel met green before Dean pushed his plate back and rose from his seat, stalking out of the kitchen. Sam frowned when he heard the garage door slam open and closed.

Okay, so he was now almost _certain_ something had happened between Brielle and his brother. What Sam didn't know was what had actually transpired between the two. Had they just kissed, or knowing his horndog brother, hooked up? If the latter was indeed the case and Dean didn't respect her feelings afterward, Sam was gonna be furious. That last thought actually made his blood boil a bit.

But on the other end of the spectrum, what if they had feelings for one another? Like, honest to goodness feelings? Would that change the way Sam felt about either one of them? _Probably_ _not_ , he reasoned. Sam had actually hinted around on more than one occasion that Brielle would be a good match for Dean, but he hadn't commented on Sam's nonchalant observation.

He finished his chicken and broccoli before getting up to put his plate in the sink and wrapping Dean's plate with tin foil. Sam placed it in the refigerator before heading down to Brielle's room to check on her.

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The sky was cloudy and gray, which suited Dean's crappy mood just fine. Somewhere in the very near vacinity, thunder rumbled ominously, warning of the oncoming storm. Even though he'd driven around the country for the last twelveish years, Dean still felt some sense of familiarity with every tree lined two lane back road he'd ever driven. _Nothing like the windows down and the radio on_ , he thought bitterly.

Except now, he wondered, what was up with Brielle. Their arrangement was just fine until he'd come back from Texas and all hell had broken loose. She'd gotten drunk and had refused to talk to him about whatever was going on. The avoidant behavior she was exhibiting was making Dean crazy and he didn't know what to do to make things okay again.

What the hell had he done wrong?

Yeah, maybe Dean was a bit rusty in the talking about your feelings department, but wouldn't she have said something before? Brielle was very obviously pissed. Dean drove for about a half an hour before he pulled off the road and turned the car around, heading back to the bunker.

He made a decision right then that he was going to get her to talk to him, no matter what.

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Brielle woke up a few hours later with an full bladder and sat up on the edge of her full sized bed carefully, waiting for the world to stop spinning. She rose slowly on wobbly legs before unlocking her bedroom door to wander down the hall to use the toilet, her right hand on the bunker wall.

She turned back towards her room the second she saw Dean coming up the hallway towards her. "Wait." He obviously looked smarter than he was, because he reached out, his strong hand wrapping around her upper arm, stopping her retreat.

"I don't have anything to say to you." Her tone was flat and his brow furrowed. "Let me go."

Dean released his grip on her and she slipped by him and the bathroom door closed and locked behind her. He heard her using the toilet before washing her hands. The door opened a minute later and she sighed when she saw him waiting there for her.

"We need to talk."

"I don't have anything to say." Brielle's words were emotionless. Dean's hand caught her wrist and he pulled her against him, her left hand going to his chest. "Let me go, Dean." A few seconds ticked by as she struggled to free herself from his grip before she hauled off and slapped his left cheek with her free hand. Without a second thought, Dean picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder. He proceeded to carry her down to the gun range, kicking the door closed behind him before letting her down. "You asshole."

"Why are you pissed off at me?"

"Seriously?"

"Yes." He was standing in front of the door, arms crossed over his chest, blocking her only exit. "We go on a hunt and leave you here overnight only to come home to find you drunk as fuck. And you do this complete 180 on me."

"Move." Her voice was deadly calm and she stepped in his personal space, her eyes flashing angrily up at him.

"Talk. To. Me." He shot back, his hand moving to his sides.

"I'm done, Dean."

"Yeah, well, I'm not letting you leave here until you talk to me."

Brielle snorted. "Oh, so now I'm a hostage?"

Dean's jaw clenched and he studied her. "No. I wanna know right now why you're looking at me like you're gonna claw my eyes out."

"I'll scream." The brunette threatened and he rolled his eyes.

"It's soundproof here." Dean suddenly sounded sad. "Please... " His voice softened. "...just tell me what I did wrong."

Brielle turned her back on him and this time, he knew better than to reach out to touch her right then. "You know what you fucking did."

"No," He stated slowly. "I don't."

"We had an agreement and you broke it, so we're done."

"How... did I break it?" Brielle turned to face him again, this time with tears in her eyes.

"That redheaded waitress ring any bells, _smartass_?"

"Waitress?" To his credit, Dean managed to look comepletely clueless.

"The waitress from the bar after the hunt in Texas."

"I'm sorry... not following you here."

"You're a jerk." Realiazation gleamed in his eyes.

"You think I hooked up with her?"

Brielle huffed, her arms crossed. "Yeah, Dean." His green eyes searched hers before he smirked a bit. "You think this is _funny_?" Her eyes threatened to overflow and her voice was shaking. Brielle moved back from him, her back finding the cold wall behind her. She slid down the wall and sat down on the floor. He mimicked her actions, his back against the range wall, sitting down and stretching his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankle.

"No." He said quietly, serious. "Let me understand you here. You think I hooked up with some waitress after we agreed eight and a half months ago to be exclusive?" She was sitting cross legged two feet from him, her hands held out sarcastically. "I know that sounds like the old me," Dean assured her gently. "But I promise you, I haven't been with anyone since we've..."

"Right." Her hurt, sarcastic tone made his shoulders sag a bit.

Suddenly, something dawned on him. "How did you know our waitress had red hair?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Sam told me everything Dean. When he called after the hunt, he told me he wasn't sure what time you guys were getting back here." Her eyes spilled over. "He told me about how she threw some game your way in the bar and that you'd be back sometime in the morning to head home..." Dean's head fell back against the cold cement wall, a hint of a smile showing itself along with the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Brielle watched him study the ceiling, gathering his thoughts.

"Brie," His eyes moved to hers a few seconds later. "Sam knows."

"What?"

"He knows..." Dean paused. "About us. He called you while I was in the shower after we finished up that job." Brielle wiped her face nervously. "Sweetheart, I promise you... I haven't done anything to jepordize this between us." He let that sink in and suddenly, she understood.

"So Sam told me that to see how I'd react and... oh my gosh." She covered her mouth with her hands.

A smile flickered across Dean's face, his eyes on her. "Yeah... you totally fell for his bullshit story." Brielle scooted across the cement floor next to him, his arm going around her shoulders as she leaned into him.

"I'm sorry I slapped you." Her voice was quiet and beside her, he chuckled.

"You're a pistol."

"We have to tell him, Dean." Brielle half expected him to argue, that they didn't.

"I think you're right." Dean's reply shocked her, pressing a kiss to her hair. "Tomorrow?"

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A/N: I had to retype this because my first two drafts mysteriously got deleted. :( Next chapter will be a bit shorter and will probably be up next week sometime. Thank you for reading! -CitrineMama


	7. Chapter 7

After their emotional revalation in the gun range an hour before, Dean had gone to his room. Brielle had washed her face in their shared bathroom before she ventured out to the war room to read the book she'd picked up a few months ago.

 _Anything to keep her mind off of the dreaded conversation she and Dean were going to have with Sam tomorrow._

With a sigh, the brunette sank into one of the leather chairs, propping her feet onto another before picking up the paperback book she'd been working on. Brielle didn't believe in those new fancy tablet thingies; love for reading actual books was something she shared with Sam and held close to her heart. Over the last year or so that she'd been living at the bunker, they'd gone into the nearby towns on several occasions to browse a few used book stores.

Her eyes scanned the faded cover before she flipped it open, letting the bookmark slide to the tabletop. It was one of the those mysteries she loved that wound a strange, dark story into an inevitable plot twist at the end.

Her eyes moved across the fortieth page to find where she'd left off a few days prior, eager for the distraction.

 _He suddenly felt a presence behind him and turned around slowly, terrified of what he would find. When he pointed the flashlight directly behind him, no one was there. The hair on his arms was standing up when he heard a soft voice call his name. "John," He blinked rapidly, immediately recognizing the voice of his wife. "John?" Her voice almost sounded far away, like she was calling him from a tunnel._

 _"Evelyn?" His own voice sounded shaky to his own ears and he started to walk in that direction, every fiber in his body screaming at him to stop._

 _But her pressed on, the beam of light in his left hand wobbling a bit. "John..." The voice continued to lead him on, his boots creaking across the kitchen floorboards that he always promised her he would fix. "John..."_

 _"Evelyn? Darling, I'm in here." He tried again and swept the light towards to the entrance of the dining room. His shaky legs carried him there when he stopped abruptly._

 _His wife was dead._

 _The horrible memory slammed into his mind like a freight train and he dropped the flashlight where it rolled across the floor. Thunder rumbled close by and he heard her shuffling footsteps towards him. "John..." Her singsong voice made him tremble._

 _"Evy..." He choked out to the darkness and felt an icy chill as-_

"Brielle?" She gasped and fumbled with the book before she dropped it on the floor. Sam was standing there, an amused smirk on his face. Her hand went to her chest and a smile came across her face.

"Holy shit. You scared me."

"I called your name like three times." He sat down in the chair where her feet had been, reaching down to pick up the book. Sam's eyes studied the cover before handing it back to her. "You feeling better?"

"Yeah," Brielle held the book open, unsure if he was going to stay. "What's up?"

"Just wanted to know if you felt like watching a movie." Her eyes held his for a few seconds before she blinked.

"Yeah. You want some popcorn?" He wrinkled his nose and she laughed softly, closing her book after sliding in the bookmark. He watched her set the book down on the table. "Chick flick?"

"That's fine." They rose and headed down the hallway to Sam's room. Brielle flopped down on his bed as he shuffled through his bin of DVDs on his dresser before deciding on one. She watched him turn everything on and join her on his bed, their backs against the headboard.

Brielle cuddled into Sam's shoulder, her hand slipping around the crook of his arm. She sighed contentedly, her eyes on the tv. A smile tugged at his mouth as he glanced down at her. "Sam?"

"Yeah?" His voice was soft.

"Thanks for putting up with me. I'm a hot mess."

She could almost hear him smile above her. "You're welcome." He pressed a kiss to her head, making her eyes close. Brielle felt the sting of fresh tears; was Sam ever going to forgive her for the secret she'd been keeping?

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"Dean?" It was well after midnight when he'd slipped into her bedroom. Her soft whisper tickled his bare collarbone in the darkness. Brielle's index finger was tracing the warm skin on his chest in random patterns. "I'm scared." Her voice was hushed, just barely above a whisper.

He sighed softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead as she snuggled closer to him. "I know." After they'd had their argument in the gun range, they'd agreed to tell Sam about whatever this was between them first thing tomorrow after breakfast.

"How mad is he gonna be?"

"Probably pretty pissed."

"Like pissed on a scale from one to ten?"

That question made Dean chuckle, a deep rumble in his chest. "At least a twenty."

Brielle sighed softly. "I've known Sam a long time... I just don't want him to hate me."

"He's not gonna hate you." Pause. "Okay?"

Brielle shifted a bit to lay on her back and his right hand found hers in the sheets, his thumb smoothing over her knuckles. "How do you know?" Her insecurity showed right then and he squeezed her fingers affectionately.

"You have any idea just how much dumb shit I've done? He's been furious with me, but he never hated me." His voice was comforting to her. "Sam's not one to hold a grudge and to be hateful, especially not with family. You're family, Brielle." Dean bent his elbow, bringing their hands up, brushing a kiss to her knuckles. "It'll be okay."

Dean felt her sigh next to him. "I'm sorry about today. I lost my shit and you didn't deserve that."

"I'm over it." Was his simple reply. He heard her sniffle quietly before she spoke again.

"I'm sorry I slapped you, Dean." He chuckled a bit and turned his face towards hers in the darkness.

"Let that go, Brie." Pause. "You were angry. I get it. What Sam said to you last night... sounds just like what I'd do. Or used to do, anyways." They were quiet before Brielle considered that and spoke again, her voice even softer this time.

"Dean? Do you... regret this?"

"What?"

"Us... hooking up. Being monogamous. Take your pick."

"No." Dean hummed a bit. "Why are you asking me this?"

"Because that's what Sam's probably gonna ask you when we tell him tomorrow."

"I like what I have with you. I trust you and it feels good to have that with someone other than my brother." He pressed a kiss to her temple before nuzzling his nose against her warm skin. "Night, sweetheart."

"Night Dean."

They lay there for a long time in a companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts before they eventually drifted off.

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Six hours later... 7:23 am

Dean kissed Brielle's lips and she gasped audibly when he pushed her up against the shower wall, the cold tiles against her back and his hard body on hers, the steaming hot water cascading down their bodies. He hiked her up with a grunt, her thighs going around his hips, as he slid into her.

"Fuck," She whispered in his ear, gently biting down on his shoulder. He thrust into her slowly and his mouth collided with hers again. _Nothing like a little morning stress release before they dropped this on Sam_. Deep down, Dean knew damn well that he was playing with fire not only because of their sneaking around, but also because of the way he was feeling about the secretly foul mouthed brunette riding his cock.

They both found release a couple minutes later and he let her down gently, her feet meeting the slick porcelin of the bathtub. A sharp knock at the door startled them both, their hearts still pounding. Dean put a finger to his lips and she nodded quickly before he called out. "Sammy?"

"Yeah," To their shock and horror, they heard the bathroom door open. "Hey... I just came across a possible hunt about 70 miles from here. You wanna check it out when you're done in there?" Sam asked from the other side of the shower curtain.

"Yeah, sounds good. I"ll be out in a few minutes." Dean called back, trying to sound casual. His green eyes were locked on Brielle's wide, scared ones.

"Good. I'm gonna start a pot of coffee." The pair both held their breaths until they heard the bathroom door close quietly.

Brielle let out a shaky sigh, her heart pounding in her chest. That was _way_ too close. She reached behind him to turn off the hot water. Dean leaned forward to kiss her lips as she did so and felt her smile a bit. Dean reached up and yanked the white bath towel over the shower curtain and handed it to her wordlessly. Brielle wrapped it snugly around her torso and pulled the shower curtain open a foot or so and stepped out onto the bathmat.

"Sweetheart, hand me a towel." Dean spoke softly. A few seconds ticked by and he didn't hear the brunette getting him a towel, so he pulled the plastic curtain open a bit more. Dean's brow wrinkled when he saw her standing there on the bathmat, her expression unreadable. "Brie?" She was staring straight ahead...

...at his little brother.

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A/N: I'm kinda evil... I know. :) Just finished this week's episode and wanted to post this. Thanks, lovely readers, for stopping by! Have a great night! -CitrineMama


	8. Chapter 8

" _Fuck_." Dean breathed.

Sam was still standng there, leaning against the sink, arms crossed over his chest. His hazel eyes locked on hers, his expression unreadable and hers, a mixutre of terrifed and embarassed. He'd opened and closed the bathroom door, making them think he'd left.

"Yeah." Sam's voice was angry as he straightened to his full height, deciding on pissed off. "I'll be out in the living room when you two are done here." He crossed the bathroom in two strides and slammed open the door, stalking out to the living room to wait for them.

"Brie?" Dean reached out behind the brunette to yank a white towel off the wall rack before he stepped out, wrapping it wround his waist. He hugged her close for a few seconds before she pushed away from his touch, making his brows raise slightly.

"Oh my gosh." She was trembling, still staring ahead where Sam had been standing a few seconds before. "I'm gonna go get dressed." Brielle slipped by Dean and across the hall to yank on some clothing.

Dean was already in the living room with Sam when she padded softly down the hallway, her damp hair in a big, messy bun and clad in jeans and a flannel shirt. "So... you two have anything to tell me?" The big brother tone Sam had made Brielle feel even worse.

Sam sounded both pissed off and disappointed. He was standing behind the leather couch, arms crossed over his chest. Hazel met gray as she entered the room. Dean was half sitting on the arm of the couch, arms crossed as well, his green eyes catching hers as she approached them warily. "Dean?" Sam's voice was sharp and Brielle shifted nervously, sliding her hands in her pockets.

His green eyes were sympathetic as he gazed as Brielle, who'd stopped four feet in front of Sam. "Sam, it's not what you think," He began, not used to Sam being the older brother. Brielle felt the panic rising in her chest and she spoke.

"I'm sorry, Sam." Her voice made his firey hazel eyes move back from Dean's to hers.

"So are you guys, like... dating... or... _knowing Dean_ ," He snarked snidely. "Just _fucking_?" That rude comment made Brielle's eyes sting with hot, angry tears. "Because you certainly aren't the first and won't be the last last piece of ass he's had." Dean's nostrils flared and he saw Brielle close her eyes, a few tears escaping down her flushed cheeks.

"Sam," Dean's anger at Sam's off the cuff remark was barely controlled. "It's not just some random fuck." His voice was quiet, reserved.

"Right." The younger man shot back at his older sibling, betrayal creeping its way into his chest. "You've been screwing around behind my back, for how long?"

"Sammy," Brielle's voice was small as she tried again to explain and his glare moved from Dean to her again, making her feel very small in front of his large frame. "We just-,"

"How. Long?" Sam ground out, his jaw muscle clenching.

Dean spoke up this time, bringing his brother's anger back on himself. "Eight months." Sam threw his hands up. "Sammy, it's-," A hand was held up, silencing his older brother.

"Wow." His incredulous answer made the rest of her tears spill over the brunette's cheeks. "I thought you were smarter than that." Dean canted his head.

"Who me?"

"Both of you. This is distracting. You could get one of us..." Sam started to pace and Brielle wrapped her arms around herself, holding back her silent sobs. "I don't mean to sound like a parent here, but damnit you guys..." Sam pushed his hair back. "This is irresponsible. And reckless." He looked at Brielle again, wanting to find some sense of reason here. "How did the two of you even start this?"

She bit her lip. "Sam, it's not a relationship or anything."

"I'm sorry... is that supposed to make me feel better about this?"

Dean watched her falter a bit. Brielle swallowed hard and wrapped her arms around herself. "It was my fault, Sammy. I just needed..." The younger brother just shook his head.

"I need some fresh air." He stalked up the stairs and the domed metal door slammed shut behind him, making Brielle flinch. Dean didn't say anything at first, still in shock over the last five minutes.

"We can't do this anymore." Her voice broke and he felt his chest tighten.

"What?" That was the last thing Dean thought she'd say; of course, Sam finding out like this was the worst way possible, so why wouldn't she just ruin everything even further?

"You heard him."

"Brielle," Dean's head was spinning. She shook her head and left the room before he could get in another word and he heard her bedroom door slam closed a second later. He closed his eyes briefly. He loved them both, cared about both of them. They were family. Period. Dean debated on following Brielle, but decided on Sammy first.

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Sam was leaning against the stone foundation of the bunker when the door opened and his brother stepped out. "Sammy, listen..."

"No, you listen." His brother's somewhat calm demeanor was long gone. "Brielle is my best friend, was Jessica's friend. She isn't even supposed to be here and as always, you have to get your rocks off and bang anything you see." Sam ran a hand through his longish hair. "Damnit, Dean. Can't you just... stop being you? I feel like you both completely lied to my face. For months, Dean." His tone was exasperated and the older man's eyebrow quirked.

"You done?" Sam shot him a glare. "My turn then. I have not slept with anyone but Brielle in the last year and a half. No one... but her." He paused, letting that sink in. "It's not just some random fuck, brother." Dean's tone softened. "I care about her."

Sam blinked rapidly, his anger diminishing just slightly at his brother's tone. "You... care about Brielle?" His tone matched his expression.

Dean's green eyes settled on his brother's. "I do." They were quiet for a moment.

"How..." He couldn't even formulate a question for Dean. "So this started out as some casual thing and now... you care about her?" This was strange territory for Sam because Dean hadn't expressed any interest in anyone since Lisa other than an occasional roll in the proverbial hay. Dean watched the younger man decipher this as though it were old Latin in some ancient text. A minute passed beofre he spoke again. "Okay." Was all Sam said. He turned and walked back into the bunker, Dean on his heels.

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Sam tapped on her bedroom door. "Brielle?"

"Go away, Sam." Her tone was muffled and he knew she was crying.

"It's my bunker."

"Go away." Sam opened her bedroom door and slipped inside, closing the door behind him. "What is it with you two and not knowing what privacy is?"

He took in the sight of her; the brunette was laying on her bed, facedown, clutching her pillow. Her face was turned away from him and she felt his weight settle on the side of her bed as he sat down carefully. "Brielle Ann," That made her turn to him, her eyes not quite meeting his. "What's going on?"

"You remember like, months ago when I met that guy and we went on that date?" Sam nodded. "Well, he was this perfect gentleman and I did not get laid." Hot angry tears threatened to overflow again at the memory. "I just... needed..." The man in front of her shifted. "You know..." She rolled over on her side completely, facing him. "Just... sex. And I couldn't ask that of you... because you're my best friend." They were quiet for a moment. "And I knew your brother would fufill that need. Nothing more would have to be involved. No one was going to catch any feels." Her chocolate eyes finally met his. Sam's brow wrinkled and her eyes narrowed. "Sam?"

 _She doesn't know Dean cares about her,_ he realized. Brielle studied his face closely.

"Sam... why are you looking at me like that?"

He struggled to answer her. It wasn't his place to share his older brother's quiet confession. Dean never opened his heart to just anyone. "Nothing."

"You knew something was going on, didn't you?"

"I guess I kinda suspected something had happened..."

"Is that why you lied and told me Dean went home with some chick from the bar?" That soft statement made Sam blush a bit.

"Sorry." That made him flash back to the other day; the thought of Dean sleeping with someone else must have really gotten to her. She'd drank recklessly and was obviously very hurt becuase of the little lie he'd told her over the phone. Sam rose and she moved to sit at the side of her twin bed. "That wasn't fair of me to do, Brie." Pause. "I'm sorry." She nodded. "But in all fairness, you lied to me too. I asked you if anything was going on between you two and you told me no..."

"It's not anything... just sex." Brielle spoke softly. "Okay?"

Her description made his heart drop into his stomach. "I'm just... trying to absorb this." Sam must have had a look on his face because Brielle's eyes narrowed as she studied him closely.

"I know you... that is a crock of shit."

Sam moved to the door to leave, pulling the door open. "I need some time..." He left her room, his footsteps echoing down the tiled hallway. His mind was reeling with the new information he'd been given from both his brother and the brunette down the hall; Dean confessed his feelings to Sam regarding the brunette... and she had no idea. He loved them both dearly and didn't want this to blow up in all their faces.

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	9. Chapter 9

Dean was sitting on the leather couch when Sam came into the room, looking what could only be described as numb. "Sammy?" His brow furrowed, knowing his brother was still not fully wrapping his mind around the thought of him and Brielle being together in a purely physical aspect.

Sam only shook his head. He was so uncertain what to do with this. _Should he let Dean tell Brielle how he feels?_ She seemed absolutely certain that this was strictly sex. "Sammy?"

The second time his name was called, Sam's hazel eyes moved to his brother's. Dean was staring at him over the back of the couch.

"Yeah?"

"You look..." Dean trailed off. His little brother looked distressed to some extent, his gaze drifting elsewhere as he gathered his thoughts. "You good?"

Sam blinked. "Yeah." He paused. "Dean, what you told me outside..." Hazel met green. "You need to... tell Brielle."

Uncertainty flickered across Dean's features. "Tell her what?"

Sam refrained from rolling his eyes. "That you care about her."

"She knows."

The younger man's eyebrows narrowed. "Really? Becuase I just talked to her not even five minutes ago and she told me it was just sex and neiher one of you caught any feelings." Dean's jaw clenched. "So yeah, you care and she apparently doesn't." The older man wiped a nervous hand across his mouth.

Dean didn't know what to say. _Brielle really didn't care about him in any other way other than a fuck buddy?_ "Seriously? Because some of the-," Sam winced, holding up a hand. He didn't need to hear all the dirty details of their romps.

Dean tilted his head, gave him an annoyed look. "Sex is one thing, Sam, but we've showered together." Sam put his hand down slowly. "And not had sex. And we've shared a bed and not fooled around. And made out..." He paused. "And not done anything else. We've laid in bed together almost every night and just talked."

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. "So you've done things couples do."

"I don't know. I've never been a couple." His smartass comment made Sam roll his eyes.

"You know what?" He leaned a hip against the arm of the couch. "Figure it out yourself. You two need to be really honest with yourselves here." Dean pushed up off the couch and started to pace in front of Sam, wiping a hand over his mouth nervously. Sam watched him freak out a bit over his suggestion. "I'm gonna start breakfast." The younger man didn't know what else to do to fill the awkward silence and started to the kitchen after standing up, his eyes still on his brother.

"I'm gonna... go talk to Brie." Dean tried to sound more confident in himself than he felt. Sam didn't reply when he disappeared from the room. Dean's boots echoed off the tiled hallway as he headed down towards the sleeping quarters, to Brielle's bedroom. The door was ajar and he knocked softly. "Brielle?" His heart was thudding away in his chest anxiously as he awaited her reply.

"What?" She sounded irritated and tired. Dean pushed open the door cautiously; the brunette was laying on her bed, her back to him. He closed the door softly behind him. She heard the chair in the corner scrape along the floor as he dragged it to the side of her bed to sit in.

"Brie, I know we've talked about... what this is... between us..." That made her shift to look at him suspiciously.

"Yeah?" Her apprehensive tone matched his.

"Sam said..." Brielle quirked an eyebrow. "I know we said no feelings involved... but," Dean cleared his throat nervously and she shifted to sit up, moving her legs to swing over the side of the bed. "Do you really mean that?" A few seconds ticked by and her chocolate eyes got wide, realization of his words hitting her like a shovel to the face.

"Dean... what are you saying?" Her voice was shaking to some degree.

"I know this was supposed to be just... sex... but... we've done some other things that made me feel like," He cleared his throat again, his nervous habit. "Like... this was more than that." Her lips parted slightly and her eyes wide.

"Dean, do you... " Brielle trailed off and he pressed his lips together. She got up and started tp pace nervously in front of him like he had moments before in the living room in front of Sam. "Oh my gosh..." He got up silently and when she turned, Brielle came face to chest with Dean. "Dean?"

"I guess you could say that." He murmured and she closed her eyes, a pained expression on her face. A fat tear squeezed its way out of her left eye and rolled down her cheek. She felt his strong arms enclose her in a warm hug, one arm around her shoulders and the other around her waist. Her face was against his chest, the soft flannel smoothing away the teardrop. Dean held her for a moment before he felt her arms come around his neck tenatively. Brielle felt herself trembling slightly and Dean pressed a kiss to her temple.

They stood that way for a few moments before he felt her holding back sobs. "Dean, when we started this, I.. I never imagined..." He nodded slightly.

"I know sweetheart." The gruffness in his voice was back. "I mean, what do you wanna do here?"

"I don't know." She sounded lost. Finally, Brielle pushed back lightly from his chest to meet his stormy eyes. "Dean, what we have here... it's uncomplicated."

"Not anymore," He smirked down at her, making a small half smile grace her lips for a second. His warm hands had moved to her waist and she had removed her hands from his chest, now over her mouth nervously. "Brie?"

"Dean," Her chocolate eyes were darting around nervously, looking anywhere but at his intense gaze. "I don't know what to say here," Brielle focused on one of his buttons and his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. His calloused hands smoothed up her torso, up her arms and gently removed her hands from her face. She looked thoroughly lost and her hands were shaking.

Dean waited and a silent sob worked its way through her chest, then another. He brought her left hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. Her brown eyes snapped to his when he did so and he held her gaze. There was a tumultuous array of emotion there, threatening to overflow. "Sweetheart, please don't cry."

His soft words made the dam inside her break, hot tears streaming down her cheeks. Dean pulled her in again, letting her cry softly into him. After a moment, he moved to sit down on her bed, settling her on his right thigh, his right arm around her, his left hand coming up to smooth her hair back. She wiped her face, her mascara smeared under her eyes. "So what do you want me to say? That we'll be... exclusive?"

That made Dean chuckle. "We're already exclusive."

"I mean..." Brielle almost hated to say it. _A couple._

Dean hesitated. "I guess." Pause. "And then things between us would be out in the open. No more lying, sneaking around and hiding this from Sammy. We could just be... together."

The brunette let out a shaky sigh, her eyes still downcast. "And what happens when you get tired of being with one woman, Dean? I'll have to leave here and probably lose not only you, but Sam also." That surprised him.

"What makes you think I'll get tired of you?"

"You've been with a million girls, Dean. You could change women like most people change shirts." His warm hand was burning her thigh right through her jeans.

"Not quite a million." Brielle looked up, shooting him a mock glare. He sighed. "Sorry. I've never been in a relationship because I've never really had the opportunity." Pause. "I've never stayed in a town for more then a few nights before moving onto the next one. The bunker was the first real home I've had... since mom died." His voice was soft now.

Brielle nodded thoughtfully. She'd never really looked at things quite that way before. "Okay."

Dean studied her expression closely, looking for signs of regret on her features. "Okay... what?"

"Maybe... we could try... this."

He watched her carefully, almost afraid she'd spook and change her mind. Dean's green eyes held her shy gaze until Brielle leaned into him, meeting his lips in a soft kiss.

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It had been nearly three weeks since the shower incident and the trio was getting used to their new normal. Sam secretly looked forward to when Brielle would come out of her bedroom in the mornings, walking up behind his brother sitting at the war room table. She'd bend over at the waist, wrap her arms around his shoulders and plant a warm kiss on his cheek, making Dean blush, a genuine smile on his mouth.

Something he hadn't seen from his brother in a long, long time.

Brielle straightened up and moved around the table to pat Sam's shoulder and kiss his cheek as well on her way to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. "Is there coffee made yet?" Sam shot Dean a look and he spoke up.

"I got it, sweetheart." He pushed back from the table and rose. "Sit." She looked surprised at his words.

"Thank you." Her voice softened and Brielle moved to sit in the chair next to him, her hair falling in her eyes as she reached down to pull the chair in underneath her backside. Dean's gaze shot to Sam's and the younger man mouthed, _cream and honey_. The older man gave a quick nod before disappearing into the kitchen. Brielle pushed her hair back and rested her arms on the wooden table, a secret little smile on her face as she watched him leave.

Sam chuckled at her dreamy expression. "You've got it bad." He teased and she blushed.

"I think I do."

That made his smile even wider. "You're good for him, Brie."

"I hope so." Dean returned then, setting a mug down in front of her carefully. She took a careful sip, her eyebrows going up a bit.

"Does it taste okay?" Dean's insecurity threaded its way into his voice. She smiled up as he moved to sit down next to her.

"Perfect." Her eyes were sparkling as she gazed at the gorgeous man next to her, her hand finding his underneath the table. "Thank you." His face relaxed into a smile.

"So there's a possible case not too far from here." Sam turned the laptop around so they could look at the screen. "What do you guys think?" They both leaned forward to read the articles. Brielle finished first and leaned back. "Brie?"

"I don't know... just two random crimes maybe?" She said slowly, glancing over at Dean, whose lips were moving slightly as he read. "Dean?"

"It's just kinda hard to connect them at this point."

Sam nodded. "I guess we wait then." He turned the laptop back around. "I was gonna run into town this morning and grab some supplies..." Dean nodded thoughtfully. "You guys wanna go, or you wanna stay here?" Dean and Brielle shared a look.

"I'll go with you." The brunette replied, taking another sip of her coffee. "I was thinking... maybe we could have a proper thanksgiving meal this year. Remember last year? You guys had that case and were gone for the week." Dean pursed his lips, considering that.

"Sounds great." He squeezed her fingers under the table and Brielle smiled, her eyes moving from his to Sam's. "Sammy?"

"That'd be amazing." He got up and closed his laptop. "I'll be five minutes." When Sam disappeared from the war room, Brielle leaned in to kiss Dean a proper good morning. He smiled against her lips.

"You don't have to be so shy." Brielle murmured.

"It's just gonna take me some getting used to." Dean whispered back and he felt her kiss him again, his eyes still closed.

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Thanks for stopping by! Reviews are love! Have a beautiful day, lovely readers.

-CitrineMama


	10. Chapter 10

A smile curved her lips upward as she woke up slowly, feeling Dean's arm tighten around her in his slumber. He was snoring lightly in her ear and she reached out to the nightstand and fumbled for her phone. "Ugh." Brielle grunted softly, squinting at the brightness of the screen.

It was nearly 3am and she switched off her alarm clock that was set for 3:15 am. The brunette shifted around a bit to lay on her back. She could feel Dean's soft breath on her face in the darkness and she leaned forward to nuzzle her nose against his. He grunted something and she giggled. "I'm gonna start dinner."

"At this hour?" He groaned, making all the blood rush to her groin. "Let's just starve. You feel so good." He nuzzled into her neck, making her dark eyes close. "So warm." For a second, she considered ordering chinese for dinner. "Just order chinese, hm?" Dean's voice was husky with sleep. "Sweetheart?"

"Baby," Brielle purred, gently untangling herself from him. "I bought everything. I'm making dinner. I'll be back in here in an hour to lay with you." Dean made a disgruntled noise. "I'll be back. Promise." She pressed a kiss to his neck, making him shiver.

Brielle got up and wrapped her hair in a messy bun with the hairband on her wrist before slipping out the door. "Sammy?" He was coming up the hall, a sleepy smile on his face. "What are you doing up?"

"I wanted to help you start dinner." He linked her arm in his and looked towards the kitchen. "Glad I didn't have to knock on the door... I've seen my brother's naked ass enough." That made her laugh out loud.

"Consider yourself lucky, Sam." Dean's grumpy voice reached the hallway, making them both laugh. Brielle and Sam made their way to the kitchen and they started on dinner. Sam chopped onions and celery to saute for the dressing and the brunette started cleaning the bird.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" He smoothed his hand across the cutting board a few seconds later, pushing all the celery into a frying pan before turning it on and adding butter. Sam glanced over at her, elbow deep in the turkey.

"I'm sorry."

"For?" He started chopping the next rib of celery. "This small enought pieces?" She nodded. "Sorry for what, Brie?"

"For not telling you about Dean and me." Brielle washed her hands before starting her search for a roasting pan. "I just never expected things to... go this far, y'know?" That made him smile.

"You having second thoughts?"

Brielle looked over at him, surprised. "No. I just... things like this don't happen to me. Guys like _Dean_ don't happen to me." That made Sam smile even bigger, eyes on his task. "I just feel like... what if he changes his mind? What if I'm not enough for him?" Her statement made Sam set down his knife and wipe his hands on the clean dishtowel before hugging her close.

"Don't you think he feels the same way?"

"I love Dean, Sam. I really do. I know he struggles to express himself, but I know how he feels. He may not tell me, but he shows me." Brielle's voice dropped and she pushed back from him lightly. "I'm scared." She suddenly felt insecure about her own emotions and started her hunt for the roasting pan.

"Love is scary."

Brielle found the pan she was looking for and set it on the counter. "He makes me feel like... like everything is okay. Like I'm safe and cared for." She smiled sadly and tears stung her eyes. Sam started chopping the onions on the cutting board next to her.

"I know." There was a certain sadness in his voice and she nodded. They worked for several more moments, Brielle seasoning the turkey and Sam cooking down the veggies a bit more. She cubed the bread for the dressing and he turned the oven on preheat, watching her dump some stock over the dressing and mix the saute pan contents in also.

Her hand worked over the dressing carefully before they worked to stuff the bird and put on the lid. "Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm so glad I have you." Her arms came around his torso in a tight hug and they stood that way for a moment. Sam smiled even though she couldn't see him. "You think Dean would care if we just bought a pie? I'm gonna make the mashed potatoes and green bean casserole."

"He'll eat anything. He's like a damn garbage disposal." They both laughed softly. Sam let her go. "When you wanna make eevrything else?"

"I can do the green bean casserole now and bake it an hour before we eat. Same with the taters." The oven beeped then, having reached the desired temperature. Brielle opened the door and Sam slid the roasting pan inside. "I'm thinking 13 minutes an hour times what... 20 pounds?"

He shrugged. "How's like 11am sound?"

"Perfect." Brielle patted his forearm. "I'm going back to bed."

"Me too." He fought a yawn. "See ya in a few hours."

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"I was thinking... maybe we could celebrate Christmas... get a tree and some lights..."

Dean made a face when Brielle suggested celebrating Christmas. Sam saw the subtle disappointment on her features when her shoulders slumped ever so slightly. "We never celebrate. Why start now?" His nonchalant reply made her stomach drop and she nodded quietly, as if in agreement.

"Okay." Brielle poked at a piece of turkey on her plate. The trio was having thanksgiving dinner and she felt like she should bring up the upcoming holiday, but Dean was pretty against decorating the bunker and having a tree. She could feel sympathy radiating off of Sam, but she kept her eyes from his too. Under the table, his large hand found her knee and squeezed gently, reassuringly.

"I'll wash." Sam said quietly, getting up to gather the dishes from the table. Brielle smiled a bit up at him and he leaned down to kiss her head, Dean's eyes on them as he chewed his last bite. "Thanks for dinner."

"I'll dry." She rose from the table, leaving Dean there alone, staring after them. Sam turned on the warm water and she stepped up next to him at the sink. "It's fine." Brielle breathed and he frowned, knowing it wasn't. Their backs were to Dean now.

"I'm sorry." The water was running, drowning out his words before his brother could catch them. "He'll come around." Brielle only shrugged before picking up a dishtowel. They washed the dishes in silence as the older man cleared off the table and put the rest of the food away. He wiped off the table and leaned against the counter next to the brunette.

Sam drained the dishpan and wiped his hands on the towel Brielle gave him. Sam and Dean shared a look before Brielle moved into Dean's arms, hugging his torso. Sam smiled a bit when Dean kissed the top of her head. The pair had been getting more comfortable expressing their emotions in front of Sam somewhat candidly.

"You guys wanna watch the grinch who stole christmas?" Brielle pushed back and looked up at Dean, then back at Sam.

"What is it with you and Christmas, hm?" Dean teased her a bit. "I'll sit with you, sweetheart. You in Sammy?"

"Yeah, of course."

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The two men had changed into sleep attire and were flipping through the channels on the television when Sam spoke up. "Dean? You need to rethink this whole not celebrating thing." Dean looked over at his younger brother in surprise.

"What are you talking about?"

Sam's eyes narrowed. "Brielle wants to celebrate... with _you_ , Dean. That's what people in relationships do." He let that sink in and his brother's expression softened. "Just... think about it, alright? She loves you, Dean. This is technically your first christmas together and she wanted it to be special." The older hunter nodded.

Brielle moved back out into the living room and sat between the two men on the couch, all of them sharing a warm blanket she'd knitted. Dean lifted his left arm and she cuddled into his side, her head finding his chest. Sam smiled over at them before turning back to the show.

It was the cartoon version and it reminded Sam of one December that he and Dean spent alone without their Dad coming back to the motel. Dean had slipped out while Sam was sleeping and had likely shoplifted some gifts from some gas station nearby. He'd woken Sam up later, saying their Dad had stopped by to drop off gifts, but even at that young age, he'd known better.

"You remember that one Christmas in Nebraska?" Dean, as usual, read his mind. He looked over at his younger brother over the now sleeping brunette's head on his chest. Sam smiled a bit.

"Of course I do." His voice softened a bit as the credits rolled. "Thanks for doing that for me, Dean." There was so much more behind those words.

"I'm glad I did." The older man pressed a kiss to the brunette's hair. "You deserved the world, Sammy." Sam felt a lump in his throat. "You were a kid. I didn't want ya to think Santa wasn't coming for you." Beside him, Brielle sighed contentedly in her slumber. "Dad wasn't exactly great at parenting."

"I know." Was all Sam said. "You were, though." That heartfelt reply made Dean smirk.

"I hope so." He reached out and clicked the remote to shut off the tv. Dean shifted to pick up the sleeping brunette in his arms carefully. "I'll take her to bed." He straightened up, hoisting her against his chest.

"Think about what I said, hm?"

"I will." Dean promised softly, his green eyes softer now. "Night brother." He carried the sleeping brunette to her room and laid her down. He pulled the covers over her and tucked her in before moving across the hall to Sam's room. He tapped and Sam answered.

"Yeah?" The older man pushed the door open and crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Dean?"

"I'm not good at this." He admitted softly. Sam knew what he meant. "I'm good at _some_ of this boyfriend stuff... but," Dean swallowed his pride. "Sam... what what you said out there, about Brielle... lovin' me," Sam yanked on a tshirt and stared at his older brother.

"What about it?"

"Why did you say that?"

Sam smiled a little. "Because she does, Dean."

"She never said that to me."

"Have you said it to her?"

Dean pushed off the doorframe. "No. I don't ever say that. Ever."

Sam sighed. "Hey Dean? I love Brielle too and I have no problem saying it. Just... please don't screw this up with her. She's so good for you." That made Dean's eyes close painfully.

"I know she is." Dean's voice dropped. That made Sam smile a bit. "I just need... some guidance here. Tell me what she needs from me because I don't know."

"Be you, Dean. That's what she needs." The younger man swore he saw Dean growing up right before his eyes. "Remember how she takes her coffee, kiss her every morning." Sam paused thoughtfully. "Make her laugh. Watch movies with her, even if you hate them." That made Dean smile some. "Those are the things I'm so thankful I was able to do with Jess when I had her." Sam's voice softened some now. "It's scary to have something worth losing, isn't it?" An understanding passed between them then.

"Scary as hell." Dean's voice was soft. "I'm damaged, I know that. I just don't want that to be... all she sees." Yeah, it was a chick flick thing for him to admit, but Sam understood.

"Dean, she loves you and that includes all the good and bad. Give Brie some credit here." He pulled back his blankets then. "Night Dean." He shot his brother a smile before Dean slipped out and closed the door behind him.

He closed Brielle's door and locked it before slipping off his tshirt and climbing in next to her. She turned towards him in her slumber and he turned the lamp down to the lowest setting, wanting to stare at her for a little while. Brielle sighed softly against him, her lips parted slightly.

"Dean?" Her sleepy voice made him smile tiredly.

"I'm right here."

"I love you." She murmured and he leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

"I know." Was his whispered reply.

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Dean's eyes fluttered closed and she giggled at his relaxed expression. It was early and she'd woken him up with her intrusive fingers slding underneath the waistband of his pajama pants. He'd groaned softly at her touch and she smirked at his sleepy reaction; normally, he slept on edge, but with her, it was always this relaxed state, slow to wake up. "Baby?"

"Mm?" He murmured, his eyes still closed. Dean's jaw clenched when he felt Brielle's warm hand wrap around his hard length and stroke gently. He groaned softly in the darkness and she smirked.

"You awake?"

Dean grunted. "Parts of me are." He rolled over in the darkness, pinning her underneath his delicious weight. They kissed a bit and he settled in the v of her thighs. "Morning." He nuzzled his nose with hers.

"Morning baby," Brielle whispered softly and his lips dropped to hers. They kissed for a few minutes, slow and lazy before she reached down to push his pants down. He chuckled at her eagerness despite the morning hour.

His body felt amazing, so warm against hers as he slid home, making both of them sigh at the sensation. "Sweetheart, you're gonna be the death of me." Dean whispered as he stilled momentarily. "I'm not gonna last this morning."

"I don't care." She whispered back and he kissed her eyelids before nudging her lips apart with his own. "Just... go slow. Make love to me..."

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"Good morning Camilla," The store's owner raised her gaze from the book she'd been reading when she heard the young woman speak to her as she entered the shop. Brielle closed the heavy wooden door, the brass bell above her jingling. It was probably original to the building and Brielle loved the solid sound it made when it closed behind her. "How's it goin'?"

"Wonderful. Good to see you! Did you have a good thanksgiving?" The blonde tucked her pen behind her ear as she came around the counter to hug the brunette. Brielle hugged her back tightly. The shop was closed the day before for the holiday and had reopened the next morning bright and early, Brielle one of the first people to meander in after the tryptophan wore off.

"It was nice... had dinner with the boys." Camilla didn't miss the shy little smile on her friend's face. She knew a little about one of her regular customers, but Brielle was always careful on what she shared with outsiders.

"How's Sam?" That made Brielle grin and Camilla blushed. "What? He's smart and incredibly good looking... just asking." The girls shared a giggle. Brielle had been coming in the store with Sam for nearly the last year and a half, on a pretty regular basis. They'd even found some old used lore books on occasion.

"He's good."

"Miss?" Another customer injected. The girls turned and he smiled a bit. "Can I just get these two, a newspaper and two coffees to go?" Camilla moved back to her spot behind the counter and rung him up, pouring two coffees. Brielle watched her back the books for him and he bid her goodbye before stepping out of the shop.

"He's sweet. Always buys something every Saturday and gets coffees for himself and his wife." The blonde murmured somewhat wistfully as they watched him pass by the glass windows, heading east. "So you were saying something about Sam?" Her tone was hopeful.

Brielle smiled at Camilla. She was attractive in a natural way. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail that brushed her shoulders and she was somewhat petite. She wore very little makeup and Brielle had always thought she could go straight from jeans and a sweater to some fancy dress in two minutes and still be amazing. Her eyes were dark brown and studious, like she could see right through you. "Yeah. He's still single." Camilla closed her eyes and the brunette giggled. "You need to ask him out for coffee. He's shy."

"Maybe I will." The blonde tugged on her arm. "I marked some stuff down in the back corner... go take a look and I'll get you a coffee while you browse." Brielle nodded and they parted as she headed towards the back of the tiny shop. She could smell the coffee brewing and coupled with the smell of the used books, it was almost heaven.

The sale shelf appeared in front of the brunette, her fingers dancing across the tops of the well worn covers of the lastest arrivals. Her eyes moved over the bookshelf as she browsed the titles, her lips moving as she read them to herself. Sam had dropped her off about an hour ago, promising her he'd be back to pick her up when she was ready. She'd stopped by the drugstore first and always wound up at the little book shop at the end the main street. This was something they'd done before and he felt comfortable doing so.

She eventually chose two books, holding them against her chest in her left arm, sipping on the coffee Camille had brought her. She finished her coffee and set the paper cup down on the shelving before pulling a third book out to read the back cover, her eyes focused on the small print.

Behind her, the bell above the worn wooden door rung as someone else entered the bookstore. She heard someone exchange hellos with the owner before she felt a warm hand on her arm. Brielle startled, dropping the two books she'd had in her arms. "Sorry. Just wanted to surprise you." Dean's smile was infectious. He hugged her close before squatting down to pick up the books before handing them to her.

"You sure did." Brielle was smiling as he straightened back to his full height. "What's up? I thought Sam was picking me up."

"I thought about what you said," Dean's green eyes focused on hers. "And I wanna take you upstate for the weekend."

"Upstate?" Her brow wrinkled.

"Yeah." He smiled a little. "There's this christmas shop and I thought we could go pick put a tree, some lights, the whole deal..." Her arms came around him again and she hugged his torso tight, feeling him chuckle. "Is that a yes?"

"Of course it is." She raised her face to his and he leaned down to kiss her lips softly.

"Let's pay for these and head out then."

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Sam was sitting down at the table in the kitchen, nursing along his coffee when his cell phone rang, Brielle's ringtone. "Hey, you left some books for other people, right? Or did you buy them out?" His tone was teasing and a smile spread across her face.

Her laugh came over the line. "I bought three. I know how to control myself." He grinned.

"You ready for me to come get you then?"

"Cute, Sam."

"What?"

"Dean's here."

Sam turned to look over his shoulder at the kitchen doorway. He hadn't even heard his brother get up yet, much less leave the bunker. "What?"

"He surprised me. He's taking me upstate for the weekend to shop for christmas deocrations."

"Wow."

"Like you didn't know."

"I seriously didn't even hear him leave the bunker." Sam paused. "He changed his mind?" His brother hadn't celebrated Christmas since the last one before he'd gone to hell. Brielle had brought up the subject before she'd made them thanksgiving dinner. Dean was flat out against it and Brielle just nodded, but Sam could see the disappointment in her tight lipped smile when she'd just nodded.

"Yeah." She opened the impala's passenger door and slid inside, pulling it closed behind her. She saw Dean talking to the owner through the window as he paid for her three books and her coffee. "Dean's really sweet, y'know?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm gonna get off here. I'll see you in a couple days, I guess."

"Alright." He felt goosebumps on his skin when he heard a shuffle in the hallway. Sam rose, palming the gun that was tucked in the back of his jeans. He thumbed off the safety. He exhaled, pointing it at the doorway.

Footsteps were shuffling up the tiled hallway towards the kitchen at a leisurely pace.

Familiar footsteps.

Then a rustling of papers.

Sam's jaw clenched, the phone still to his ear, his left hand holding his gun. He kept it trained on the doorway, waiting for the assailant.

Dean rounded the corner, still in his pajama pants and slippers, a robe thrown over his bare shoulders, newspaper in his hands.

"Love ya Sam." Her voice came over the line. Sam was frozen in place, his mind reeling out of control. He lowered the gun when he realized Dean was _right in front of him._

"Whoa Sammy." Dean looked surprised at his brother pointing a gun at him. "I'm sorry if we were up late last night. _Damn_. Don't point that thing at me." He moved past his brother and stepped down into the kitchen, heading towards the coffee pot.

"Brie, _that's not Dean_." He heard the click of her line and the older man froze when Sam choked out those words. "That's not-,"

Dean froze then, his eyes instantly on his brother's. "Sammy?"

A/N: Hello all! Thank you for all of your reviews and for following me on this story. What do you think thus far? This chapter was much longer this time. :) This isn't the direction I had originally planned on for this story, but my muse takes me where she takes me. Reviews are love! Have a lovely evening, beautiful readers! -CitrineMama


	11. Chapter 11

The look on Dean's face was a sickening mixture of horror, fear and regret. He set the mug of coffee down heavily, the steaming black liquid sloshing over the side onto the countertop next to the coffee maker as Sam rose from the table, still staring at the phone in his hand in shock. "Sam?" His voice sounded choked to his own ears.

"Brielle said you picked her up from the bookstore... surprised her there." Tears stung Sam's eyes and he ignored them. "Told her you changed your mind about Christmas and was taking her away for the weekend." Dean's eyes closed painfully at his brother's hushed reply.

"I'll be ready in five minutes." The two men sprang into action, getting dressed and getting a bag full of weaponry before meeting in the garage.

Sam was already stting in the driver's seat, engine running, when Dean appeared, tossing his bag in the trunk before slamming it closed. He stalked up to the passenger seat, wrenched open the car door and slid in before slamming the door closed. For a moment, the younger man thought he was going to argue about who drove, but instead, Dean settled on the bench seat to Sam's right, pulling on his seatbelt.

"Go." He murmured and Sam didn't need to be told twice.

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Brielle looked over at the handsome man next to her as he drove, humming softly. He caught her looking and flashed her a smile. She suddenly glanced in the backseat, then back to him. "Did you bring clothes for us?"

He chuckled softly. "In the trunk. I was kinda hoping, though, that we wouldn't be needing many this weekend..." The suggestive tone made her blush all the way to her toes and Dean grinned, his green eyes moving back to the road ahead of them.

Unbeknownst to Brielle, her phone in her purse was ringing, but it was still on silent from the book store. Sam was calling for the tenth time, trying to reach her. They rode along in a companionable silence, the radio playing softly. Brielle dozed off and he smiled over at her.

She was slouched down in the passnger seat a bit, her face turned towards the window some, her arms across her chest. Brielle looked peaceful and he reached out to turn the radio even lower.

Dean hummed to himself, glancing up at the passing road signs. The hotel wasn't too much further and he had planned on taking her shopping and to dinner as well. He knew this was what she'd wanted and he was more than happy to do this for her.

The signs for the nicer than usual hotel were visible now and he reached out to pat her thigh. "Sweetheart? We're about here." Brielle's eyes fluttered open and she focused on the expensive chain hotel whose parking lot they'd pulled into, surprise on her features.

"We're staying here? It looks expensive, Dean." She looked over at him as he pulled into a space near the end of the lot. He smirked, but didn't reply. They parked and he cut the engine before they got out, closing the doors behind them.

"Our bags?" Her voice stopped him and he paused.

"Let's just check in real quick. I wanted to take you out for dinner and that shop's only open until 6 o'clock." Dean held out a hand for her to take. "We can take a peek at the room real quick if you'd like."

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Sam glanced over at his older brother as they drove, his foot heavy on the accelerator. "Dean?"

The hunter had a closed fist to his mouth, staring at the windshield, lost in thought. His throat worked to swallow and he finally spoke. "Sam, this is exactly why." That wasn't what Sam expected to come out of his mouth. "Fuckin' _exactly_ why I don't do relationships. This is what happens." His tone was dull, hopeless. "I'm poison."

" _Stop_." Sam was ever the voice of reason. "Brielle loves you and if this is _anyone's_ fault, it's mine. I was the one, Dean," He waited until green eyes slid to him. "I dropped her off at the bookstore and left her alone. If you're looking for someone to blame, blame me."

Dean rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. "It's not your fault Sam. It's mine. It's _always_ mine." Bitterness crept into his voice. "I should've been the one in the bookstore with her, patiently waiting for her to read every back cover. Making sure she was safe." He swore again quietly. "Instead, I'm laying in bed sleeping, just leaving her out there for some monster like low hanging fruit."

"You know that's not true."

"It is." There was no reasoning with him.

"Dean," Sam passed a car on the two lane road into Ebson. "We'll find her. I have a tracker on the GPS on her phone. Instead of bitching about how toxic you think you are, fucking do something productive." Dean immediately thumbed on his phone and did just that.

"Her phone won't pick up. She's probably-,"

"Don't." Sam's voice was deadly. He pulled into the bookshop. "C'mon." He got out and jogged to the door without waiting for his brother. "Camille?"

"Hey Sam," She'd heard the bell jingle. "I was just getting ready to close up." Her eyes focused on his face, concern on his features. "Are you alright?" He shook his head.

"Was Brie in here an hour and a half ago?"

"Yeah, for a few minutes. Got a coffee and three books and left..." Camille and Sam both looked over at the brass bell jingled above the door again as Dean entered the shop. "With _him_." Her brow narrowed and she sounded confused. "Sam?"

"This guy here? She left with him?"

"Yes." Camille looked back and forth between the two men as they had a conversation with their eyes. "What the hell's going on?"

"You have video surveillance?" Within three minutes they were squeezed in her tiny, messy office, veiwng the last couple hours until they found Brielle, then Dean entering the shop. The two men behind her were leaning in, watching the monitor over her shoulder intently, although she wasn't even entirely sure what they were looking for, exactly.

"Shifter." Dean breathed, seeing the telltale retinal flash of the eyes. "How would she even know it wasn't me?"

"Shifter?" Camilla asked quietly, eyebrows raised as she turned in the squeaky wooden chair to look up at the two men, confusion on her features. "Sam?"

"Listen, shapeshifters are like," Sam struggled to explain this to the blonde bookstore owner in front of him. She was looking back and forth between the two men in the back room where they'd viewed the footage. "Evil twins. They're monsters." She took that piece of information in and nodded. "They take the shape of anyone they please."

" _That's_ why you two always buy my ancient lore books... because that stuff's _real_?" Her flat statement made Sam smile a bit. "Holy shit." The blonde leaned back in her office chair, making it creak again as she digested the bizaare shit they were telling her. Sam watched her eyes move aorund as she weighed her opinion.

"Yeah." He sighed. "It's complicated."

"So you... hunt monsters?"

"Yeah." Sam didn't have time to explain much else; he wanted to get on the road almost as much as his brother to gank this sonovabitch and get Brielle back. "So he said they were going upstate?"

Camille frowned. "He told me upstate someplace... but the only place I can think of that does holiday decor is in Olath." Camille met Sam's gaze. "It's four hours east of here." Sam nodded and glanced at Dean.

"Olath it is." Sam pushed off the office desk. Camille grabbed her purse before she rose, pulling out the keys to lock up her shop.

"I'm going with you." The blonde said sharply and both men froze.

"The _hell_ you are." Dean ground out, not wanting another person harmed because of him. She gave him a look of her own, then looked up at Sam.

"C'mon."

The trio locked up and headed for the impala, Dean driving this time. Camille slid in the backseat after Sam opened the rear passenger door for her. The engine came to life and the sleek black car tore out of the parking lot, heading east. Camille was still reeling from the information she'd been given in the last five minutes. Sam glanced over at her. She was looking at him and a small smile graced her lips. "Brie's gonna be okay, right?"

"Of course." Sam assured her and beside him, Dean's jaw muscle tightened. "We'll get her back."

"Are you guys... dating?" Camille directed her question at the older man, who hadn't really said much up until that point.

"Yeah." Was all Dean said. She nodded, her eyes moving back to Sam's.

"There are some hotels near that shop." Camille suddenly remembered. Dean glanced at her in the rearview mirror. "Three or four of them. You think he might take her there?" Sam was already googling on his phone. "Sam?" She leaned forward to rest her forearms on the front seat, looking over his shoulder. "They're about twenty minutes from the shops."

"What was he driving?" Dean asked suddenly. Sam and Camille looked over when he spoke.

"This exact car." Was her soft reply.

"So we find the car and we gank that asshole after we get Brie." His tone was dark. "We'll be there around five." Dean's foot pressed the accelerator down even harder and a cloud of dust kicked up behind them as they headed down the two lane to rescue his Brielle. "If it's not too late already..." His murmur was soft and Sam shot him a look.

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Hello lovely readers!

I don't own anyone from Supernatural, only my OC Brielle. This chapter is a bit short, but never fear... the next one won't be far behind! *winks* I hope everyone has a Merry Christmas with their families and friends. Reviews are love!

CitrineMama


	12. Chapter 12

Dean pushed the cart through the crowded store without a compaint, watching the brunette finger dozens of delicate ornaments, placing them into the cart when she found ones she liked. A six foot tree was in there as well. The scent of cinnamon was in the air and she felt his gaze on her. His green eyes twinkled and she smiled before linking her arm in his. "Thank you for doing this for me."

"You're welcome." He murmured. Dean loved her, he really did. Stuff like this... just made him feel awkward. Like he wasn't sure what to do. The memories that accompanied this new body were incredible, mainly revolving around self loathing and guilt but great affection for the brunette currently holding his hand while they stood behind a few other patrons to pay for their purchases.

"You wanna dinner someplace? I'm kinda hungry."

"I could eat." The look he gave her made her blush and he laughed softly at her expression as the pair pushed the cart towards the register as the lines moved. After paying, they made their way to his car at the end of the parking lot. Dean unlocked the passenger door for her and she got in, holding her plastic bags. He closed the door before sliding the white cardboard tree box in the backseat behind her before closing the door.

She watched him walk around the front of his car. Brielle even loved his confident swagger. Everything about him made her want him even more and she was smiling as he slid in next to her, starting the engine. "There's a steak house we passed on the way here..."

"You got it." He shifted into gear and they pulled out of the parking lot.

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Camilla could feel a mixture of tension and anger radiating off of the man in the drivers seat. It was somewhat unnerving to sit in the car with the two men who were obviously closely bonded. They'd shared several looks and had made slight expressions at one another without saying a word, seemingly having a language of their own. It was a grueling two hour drive thus far and emotions were running high.

This was why Brielle was never completely open with her, Camilla realized. She was literally living in some world most believed to be fantasy and her biweekly visits to the blonde's bookstore had provided the young woman some semblence of normalcy. She'd never truly shared any private details of her life and Camilla now understood why.

They'd chatted about Sam often and Brielle had encouraged her to make a move on the seemingly shy man. Camilla had often asked about Brielle's own love life and the brunette had always kind of shied away from that subject as well, saying she was in a comlicated, but committed situation.

Obviously, Dean was the complicated, committed situation, Camilla smiled to herself, her eyes on the window watching the scenery passing by.

Sam was on his phone, watching their position on his map change bit by bit, bringing them closer to Brielle. "We're like ninety minutes out." His voice was quiet against the deafening silence inside the car.

Both the blonde in the backseat and the younger man jumped when the heel of Dean's left hand slammed off the steering wheel. "Not fucking helping, Sam." Was Dean's growl. Sam exhaled and nodded, feeling the tension from his brother, loud and clear.

"We'll get her back, Dean."

The short haired man rolled his eyes, his foot even heavier on the gas. "Camilla, you said that he left in a car, _just_ like this?" His dark eyes slid to the rearview mirror for a few seconds to meet hers. "How the hell is that even _possible_?" He turned to his brother. "Sammy?"

The younger man punched something into his phone and a few seconds later, he spoke. "Okay... so get this... apparently, there's something called an illusion cloak. It's like an illusion to make one thing look like something else and it's been around for some time, often linked in with skinwalkers and native american tribes."

"Wait... I swear I saw something like that a few years ago..." Camilla spoke up from the backseat. "Like, there was a feature on it or something on tv. I think the government was experimenting with invisiblity for ships and planes and such." Sam nodded along, his eyes still on his phone as he skimmed the information. "It was something simliar to the technology that is used in the medical field for cat scans or whatever. So, same idea?"

"Yeah. Apparently this can be done by manipulating the magnetic fields around an object." Sam looked up from this cell phone after switching his screen back to his map app. "So she could've gotten in some beater car with this shifter and it was a total ringer for you and the impala."

"Shit." Dean swore under his breath. "So what exactly are the odds that he kept the appearance of my car after he took her?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't know. We just gotta hope that he left the car under the guise of this one."

"Alright." Camilla took a careful breath, not wanting to piss Dean off even further. "We find the car, we find them, right?"

"You said there were four hotels near this Christmas shop?" The older man spoke again, hope fading from his voice.

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Dean watched Brielle sip her wine as he took another bite of his steak. She looked completely relaxed and happy and that made him smile. "Dean?"

"Yeah?" He chewed carefully, his eyes on hers.

She set her glass next to her plate and picked up her fork. "Why'd you change your mind?"

"About what?"

Brielle studied his features. "About Christmas?"

His green eyes held hers. "About celebrating?"

"Yes." Her stomach felt funny all of a sudden and she didn't know why.

"I wanted to." His answer wasn't what she was looking for. Brielle nodded queitly, her eyes moving from his. "Brielle?"

"I'm gonna use the ladies room." Her quiet voice barely reached his ears.

"I'll be right here." Dean smiled up at her as she rose from her chair, eyes scanning the dining area for the restrooms. She left him there and found a single stall ladies room. Her fingers locked the door and she leaned against it. Something in her gut told her something was wrong. Dean either had a complete change of heart, whish she serioudly doubted, or Sam had laid into him about the holiday.

The second thought actually made her a little upset; Brielle had been super excited to celebrate with the boys this year and she was thinking Dean would feel the same way, new relationship and all.

It was no big deal to Dean; he'd simply shrugged off the idea. She'd wanted him to share in her excitement and Sam damn well knew that. It pissed her off to think that Sam may have put him up to this, cheapening the whole experience that Dean had apparently planned for the two of them.

Brielle used the toilet and washed her hands before exiting the bathroom. Dean's eyes were on her over the table as she made her way back to him. "You alright, sweetheart?" She sat down across from him again, folding her napkin in her lap.

"Did Sam put you up to this?"

He wrinkled his brow, seemingly confused by her question. "Put me up to what?"

"This." Brielle leaned forward, her eyes on his. "You picking me up at the bookstore, taking me away for the weekend, celebrating Christmas when you were hell bent on not doing any such thing." She tilted her head. "Take your pick."

"Brie," Dean reached across the wooden table top and clasped her hand in his much larger one. "I wanted to do this with you." Brielle was staring at their hands. "Alright?"

"So Sam didn't put you up to this?"

He only smiled. "Of course not." His eyes moved over her features, taking in each detail. Brielle smiled a bit and the waitress brought over their check then. "Back to the hotel?"

A/N:

Hello all!

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. **jloh217** , great question about the impala! I heard something on the history channel about this awhile back and got in touch with my inner Sam Winchester...did some further research. ;) There is a ton of info out there regarding the subject. Kinda creepy right? I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas! Thank you for all the PMs, follows and reviews! They always make my freaking day!

CitrineMama


	13. Chapter 13

Back at the hotel...

As soon as the door closed, their hands were all over one another and their lips met softly. "You forgot our bags in the car again." Brielle whispered against his mouth and he chuckled softly. Dean pulled her closer to him, nuzzling his scruff into her neck, making her shiver.

"What do we need clothes for, hm?"

Brielle pulled back a bit to look up at the gorgeous man whose arms were around her. He was ever prepared and _now_ he was too enamored with her to get their bags? Turned on or not, this was out of character for him and that gave her that unnerved feeling again. "Dean, seriously? You sleep in your clothes in case we have to run unless we're home." His green eyes narrowed a bit.

"I'll get them in a little while." His gaze dropped to her mouth for a second. "You have your books and your purse. What else do you need?" There was a tiny bit of annoyance in his voice at her behest. Brielle moved back from Dean slightly.

"Nothing." Her tone was light. "I'm gonna brush my hair and use the bathroom." Brielle straightened up to peck his pouty lips. "I could go for some wine..." A smile crossed his features.

"I can order some room service." Dean winked at the brunette and she smiled before they parted so he could use the room phone to order. She watched him cross the room and pick up the phone before she picked up her purse and her book bag, setting them on the nightstand before disappearing into the bathroom with her hairbrush.

As she washed her hands, Brielle looked in the mirror at her reflection. _Such a plain girl,_ she thought to herself. But Dean saw something special and that made her smile. Brielle raked her brush through her dark hair before setting it down on the counter top and exiting the bathroom. Dean gave her a look and indicated that he was still on hold for the room service.

She flopped on the king sized bed and rolled over to pull out one of the books she'd purchased from Camilla's shop that afternoon and opened it to the first page. Brielle started to read, Dean's voice fading from the background. She was about three pages in when he called into her. "Hey sweetheart, you want any dessert?"

"Get me anything. You know what I like." She called back absently, blindly reaching in her bag for the metal bookmark that Sam had bought her for her birthday months ago. It was flat and thin and had a blunt end that folded easily over the top of her paperback.

She rubbed her thumb over the smoothness of the object as she read until Dean appeared in the doorway. He had a smile on his face and he leaned against the frame of the door, arms crossed over his chest. "You mind if I shower? They'll be up shortly."

Brielle was sitting with her back against the headboard, her eyes on him. "Mind if I join you?" His eyes twinkled and she closed the paperback with her silver bookmark inside, setting it on the nightstand before scooting to the side of the bed.

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"That's the shop right there." Camilla pointed to a now dark storefront. She leaned forward after undoing her seatbelt, her arms resting on the benchseat between the two men. "The first hotel is up the road here about four miles." The impala passed the buillding and toward the first place. "Brie, where are you?" She murmured softly to herself. Sam shifted in his seat; he had never seen his brother this worked up over anything.

They'd been on probably hundreds of cases and Dean was always this heroic badass in Sam's eyes, confident that every hunt was going to end with him saving the victim. Even when he was little, Sam never doubted his brother's ability to conquer whatever came their way.

Ah, but this was different. He hadn't ever witnessed his brother's blatant fear that a hunt would go terribly awry, resulting in someone's death that he considered family.

That fear bled over across the bench seat into Sam's own mind.

 _It's scary to have something worth losing, isn't it?_

Their conversation the other day rang back into Sam's mind. This... _this_ was Dean's greatest fear.

Not being able to save the people that meant the most to him.

The guilt alone would do him in.

"Fuck." Camilla swore quietly and Sam glanced over at the blonde, surprised. "Sorry." Pause. There were a few cars in the lot, but none that were even close to the impala. "Dean, a few more miles up the street here, there's two more." It was nearing 8pm and the roads were lit up by the occasional streetlights.

"Fuck." Dean swore this time. "What if you're wrong? What if we're in the wrong damn town and she's hours away?" He glanced at Camilla. She leaned her weight on her forearms, still between them.

"I've lived in this area all my life. This is as festive as it gets. That's why I'm so sure."

Dean didn't say anything else, his eyes on the road ahead of him. Sam and Camilla shared a sympathetic look. The trio was quiet until they reached the next two hotels. Dean pulled into the expanse of a parking lot between the two and groaned softly. "Of fucking course they share a lot. You see my damn car anywhere?"

They all scanned as he drove thought the cars slowly, straining to locate the muscle car. "There." Sam breathed, pointing. "She's in there." Dean parked right next to the car, feeling a little odd about it as the all scrambled out.

"What's the plan?" Camilla asked softly. Sam and Dean looked at each other.

"You stay here." They walked to the trunk and Dean opened it, shuffling through his weaponry as she stared, wide eyed. Sam took one of the smaller handguns from his brother and loaded it with silver bullets. "You see any activity with this car next to us, you text me."

"How do you take one of these things down?"

"Silver... through the heart." Was Sam's reply. They watched her get back in and Dean locked the doors. They crossed the parking lot and entered into the main lobby. One of the men dressed in the hotel's uniform stopped short when he saw Dean, some confusion on his face.

"Sir, is everything all right? I just delivered the room service..."

Dean cleared his throat nervously. "Yes... I just forgot something in my car and I realized I didn't have my card key to the room. Can you get me another one? My girlfriend's in the bathtub and I don't wanna disturb her." The lie rolled off his tongue easily. Sam followed Dean to the front desk where the clerk looked him up in the computer.

"There you are... 619 sir." The man smiled politely as he handed over a spare card key and Dean forced a smile back.

"Thanks." The two men opted for the stairs instead of the elevator.

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The light above the doorknob flashed green when they got to the room after swiping the card key. Dean looked to Sam, who nodded silently, gun in hand. They entered the suite and crept further inside. There was a platter of food and an untouched bottle of wine in the main area and Dean made his way along the wall, towards the bedroom and bathroom to his left.

He wrinkled his nose at the pile of flesh that was the shapeshifter and his face softened when he saw the top of Brielle's head. She was on the left side of the bed and she was just sitting there on the floor, rocking back and forth a bit. "Brielle." His voice was choked and she looked up at him and screamed, scooting away form him. Sam was there at Dean's side in an instant.

"It's us." Sam's voice made her burst into sobs and she let herself be pulled to her feet and into Dean's arms in a tight hug. She was trembling and Sam looked at the shifter goo, then back at Brielle. "You killed him?"

Dean's chin was on her head and his eyes were closed as he held her. "Sweetheart, it's okay... I'm here." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and hugged her even tighter. Sam swallowed hard at the pair in front of him. He pulled out his phone and sent a text to Camilla.

 _Got her... coming back to you_

"We should go." Dean murmured, opening his eyes then, focusing on his brother. "We gotta go, Brie." They manuvered around the pile of goo, his hand cupping her cheek towards his chest to avert her eyes. Sam spotted her purse and bag on the nightstand. He grabbed them both and paused when he saw the bedding in obvious disarray before following the pair out of the room.

"Thank goodness you're okay." Camilla got out of the car when she saw them approaching. "The car next to me just freaking turned into that right after you guys left me." _That_ , was a busted up ford with rust all over and no plates. She looked to a very distraught and oddly quiet Brielle. "Brie?"

The brunette continued to stare at the ground, Dean's arm around her. Camilla frowned and looked to Sam. "Dean, you wanna sit with Brielle while I drive?" Sam spoke quietly.

Yeah," Dean opened the back door for Brielle and she got inside somewhat slowly. He slid in next to her as Camilla got in the impala in front of him. Sam pulled his door shut and started the engine. Dean pulled Brielle against him, not bothering with a seatbelt for either one of them.

His hand was absently rubbing her upper left arm as he held her close to the warmth of his body. "Just close your eyes." His whisper carried to the front seat. Camilla glanced back before looking over to Sam. He just glanced in the rearview mirror and adjusted it slightly.

Normally, Dean would've bitched about that, but not now. The car rolled out of the parking lot and headed west on the two lane. There was a calmer atmosphere in the car now that Brielle was safe. Sam drove for about a half hour and he looked over at Camilla when she felt her small hand squeeze his forearm gently, knowing he was tense. They shared a small smile.

In the backseat, the older hunter was still reeling from the day's events. He felt the brunette tense up next to him, then relax. Then she did it again. And again.

"Sammy, pull over." Dean's voice held some sense of urgency and Sam did just so a few seconds later. Brielle pushed away from Dean as the car rolled to a stop and shoved the door open and slid out. Dean slid across the seat and was getting out of the car just as she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the gravel on the shoulder.

Silent tears were streaming down her face and she felt Dean's warm hand on her lower back, a stark contrast to the cold metal under her left hand as it rested on the trunk of the car on the driver's side. Sam turned to Camilla, who'd slid across to the driver's seat, her legs out of the car. He motioned for her to open the glovebox and she leaned back and did so, grabbing some fast food napkins that were stashed in there.

Sam took them from her and tapped Dean on the arm and he turned, nodding his thanks. He handed them to the brunette and she waved him away as another bought of nausea hit.

Dean felt Sam and Camilla move back into the car and close the door quietly. He continued to rub her back in small circles as she fought for control over her stomach.

Once there was no food left in her belly, Brielle straightened up a bit, feeling the muscles in her back pull a bit from her repeated vomiting. Dean hugged her close and she was crying softly now into Dean's chest. She wiped her mouth with the napkin and finally gave a nod. He helped her back into the car and pulled the door closed. Sam locked the doors and the car rolled off the gravel and onto the pavement, heading for home.

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Sam pulled into the bunker garage after midnight and shifted into park. Camilla stirred awake and looked a bit confused at her surroundings. "Sam?"

"You okay to stay here tonight? I just wanted to bring her back..." He spoke softly and she nodded before they got out of the car. The opening and closing of the doors woke up Dean. Brielle was passed out and he got out before reaching in to scoop her up in his arms.

Camilla watched Dean carry the brunette into a side door, leaving the two of them in the garage. "Sam? I'm exhausted." She admitted softly. "But I don't think I can sleep."

"Coffee?" He offered and she nodded. The walked into the bunker and down the hall into the kitchen. He felt her hand slide into the crook of his arm.

"I always imagined you taking me out for coffee, Sam, but never like this."

That made him smile as she slid into the kitchen table seating as he searched for the coffee and filters. "Well, I certainly know how to make things memorable."

"That you do," The blonde smiled, studying him as he found what he was looking for before clicking on the coffee pot. He scooped out several spoonfuls and placed the filter into the top. "I'm kinda starving."

"You want a sandwich or something?"

"How about pancakes?" That made Sam laugh as he filled the water reservior. "Maybe some bacon?" She got up from the table and wandered over to the fridge. She saw a half pack of bacon and pulled it out. "I'll make it if you show me where the pans are."

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A/N:

Hi beautiful readers!

I'm glad Brielle's back with the boys. :) Looking forward to seeing how you guys felt about this chapter. Reviews are my motivation. Thanks for stopping by!

CitrineMama


	14. Chapter 14

Brielle startled awake at the shift in position when Dean laid her down in her bedroom on top of her comforter. She lashed out wildly, almost hitting him and her scared eyes found his, the first time she'd met his gaze since they'd come to rescue her at the hotel. He ducked her fists and backed off some, his hands up. "Brielle, you're safe. We're back at the bunker in your room." His gentle tone he always used when they were alone stilled her and her gaze immediately dropped from his.

Her breath was coming in little pants and Dean waited for her patiently. "Please go." Her voice was so soft and his brow wrinkled when he thought he heard her say that.

"What?"

"Please go." Her voice was shaking and Dean watched the brunette wrap her arms around her knees after pulling them up to her chest, her eyes still downcast.

"Brielle? I'm here." He sounded confused and heartbroken.

His words made her eyes close. "Please... get out of my room. I wanna be alone." Dean stood there for a few more seconds before retreating. He obeyed her request, closing the door softly behind him. Dean paused outside her door for another moment before he closed his eyes painfully when he heard the bedroom door lock behind him.

He heard her mattress groan softly when she sat back down again and swallowed his pride before heading up the hallway to find his brother.

Sam and Camilla were making bacon and pancakes in the bunker kitchen when he appeared in the doorway, somewhat distressed. Sam immediately sensed his brother's presence and turned to meet his gaze. "Dean? She alright?" The blonde watched the interaction between the two men quietly, knowing better than to speak.

"Fuckin' told me to leave her room and locked the door behind me." His tone was dark, angry and Camilla looked up at Sam, whose hazel eyes were trained on his brother. Something passed between them and Sam finally spoke.

"What?"

"Yeah." His hands came out to grip the doorway to steady himself from the barely controlled rage that threatened to overtake him. " _Please_... talk to her Sam." The younder man nodded silently and saw his brother relax some. "I've never seen her like this..."

"Yeah, I got it." Dean moved aside and Sam left Camilla alone with his brother.

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Sam tapped on the heavy wooden door before he tried the knob. "Brie?" There was no answer. He crossed the hall to grab his brother's lock pick kit from the nightstand and freed up the lock in a few seconds.

Brielle was laying on her side on top of the bed linens, facing away from the doorway. "Brielle?"

"What?" Her tone was choked. Sam dragged the wooden chair to her bedside and sank down onto it.

"You told Dean to leave?"

"I don't wanna see him right now."

Sam considered his words before he spoke. "This isn't your fault." That made her body tense some; he could see it in her shoulders. "Brie, you _know_ that, right?"

"Sam, _don't_."

"Are you okay? I mean physically?" His question was soft now. "He didn't hurt you, right?" In front of him, her eyes closed painfully. She didn't answer right away. "Brielle Ann?"

"No." There was an uncomfortable silence between them.

He tried another tactic, wanting her to talk to him, at least. "You killed the shifter, Brie. How did..."

"The silver bookmark you gave me for my birthday." Sam flashed back to a few months prior; he'd gotten the silver bookmark at an estate sale, knowing she'd love it. "I put it back in my book before you came for me." She added dryly. Sam nodded silently.

He made a mental note to get it from her bag in the impala and clean it for her, knowing she'd probably just stuck it in there in haste, still covered in goo. "You did good." She sniffled and didn't say anything. "Why'd you kick Dean out?"

"I can't see him right now." She repeated her earlier statement. Sam reached out to pat the bed and she felt him do so.

"Can I draw you a bath?" That seemed to strike something in the brunette and she nodded a bit. "Give me a minute, alright?" His knees cracked as he rose and she heard him exit her room and walk to the bathroom. Brielle heard the light click on next door and the water in the bathtub start.

She counted about forty five seconds before his footsteps came back. "C'mon." She rolled over and let him pull her to her feet, leading her to the bathroom. He'd lit two candles and dimmed the light some. "Take your time." The water was still running and Sam moved to sit on the edge of the tub and dip his hand in the water, testing the temperature.

Brielle was standing there as she watched him watch the water run, adding some epsom salts she kept in a jar on the back of the toilet. The smell of the lavender hit her and her stomach immediately lurched. Sam stood only to see her dry heave into the sink. His hand was on her back as she leaned over the sink, carefully smoothing circles against her tshirt. "Brielle?"

She waved him back and he didn't retreat, instead Sam reached up to pull something from the medicine cabinet. He turned on the tap and filled a paper cup with water for her to rinse. Brielle spat into the sink and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I'm gonna go. Don't drown, alright?" She nodded and he patted her back before reaching down to turn off the hot water. "I'll check on you in a bit," The brunette nodded and heard the bathroom door close with a soft click.

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Camilla silently fixed up three paper plates with bacon and pancakes that she'd come across in the cabinet and poured a third mug of coffee, setting it down in front of the green eyed man who'd moved to the kitchen table. His hand moved to it immediately, finding some comfort in the warmth of the mug. "Cream?" He nodded slightly and she moved to the fridge. "You alright?"

"I'll be alright when she is."

The blonde poured a splash of milk in his mug and he nodded. She recapped the milk and sat down across from him, munching on a piece of bacon. "I'm still amazed at what you guys do." She spoke quietly. "Like... you guys are _heros_ , Dean. _Holy_ _shit_." That made him smile ruefully.

"Yeah, some hero."

"You got her back, Dean." Pause. "That's a win, right?"

"She didn't even want me _close_ to her and we've been... together for just under a year and a half." Dean had no idea why he was spilling his guts to some woman he'd met only hours before. "I don't even know what the hell happened to her before we got there because she won't talk to me." His frustration was apparent.

"Well fuck. She's probably in shock." Camilla licked bacon grease off her finger. "Some monster was wearing her boyfriend's face. I'd be a little screwed in the head for awhile too. Wouldn't you be?" Her brown eyes watched him consider that. "Listen, I know you don't exactly now me, but Brielle's been coming into my store for a year now. I talk to her every week." Her voice softened. "She's told me about you, Dean."

"Told you what?" Dean's tone was now suspicious, his guard immediately back up with the blonde woman across from him. Camilla didn't seem to notice.

"That you guys were kinda seeing one another. How scared she was at the blatant attraction she had to you." She smiled a little. "I can see why. You and Sam aren't bad to look at." That made his dimple deepen. "Brielle was always kind of... in awe that you would even give her the time of day. She always felt sorta plain Jane and you made her feel... _special_."

That made his heart flip flop in his chest. "She is special."

"I know." They were quiet for a moment.

"She's so smart, like my brother. I'm shocked she gave _me_ a chance, honestly." Dean admitted quietly. Sam returned then and sat down next to his brother, across from the blonde bookstore owner. "Sammy?"

"She's taking a bath." He spoke quietly. "She's upset, Dean. I told her we'd check on her after a bit... she's getting herself together." Camilla got up then to find syrup and Sam pointed to one of the cabinets. She pulled it down, studied the back label and then looked back at Sam.

"You mind if I warm this up?"

"Thank God someone else thinks that's normal." Dean looked at Sam pointedly. "Yeah. Like 45 seconds in the microwave." Camilla did so and brought the boys the syrup so they could eat. They were quiet for a few minutes before Sam spoke.

"Dean, why don't you go check on Brie when you're done here." His voice was reassuring. "She just needed some space, I think. She just did a hunt on her own, basically." His gaze slid to the blonde before moving back to his brother's. Dean chewed thoughtfully. "She just done research until now. And she freaking stabbed that shifter in the heart." Dean's fork slipped from his hand at Sam's comment, clattering to his plate loudly. Camilla stopped chewing. "Brielle's in shock. She just needs to process this."

"I never thought of how she killed him." His voice was hushed. "What'd she stab him with?"

"Her bookmark." Camilla closed her eyes at that remark; she'd remembered how excited the brunette had been when she'd gotten it as a birthday gift from Sam earlier that year. Dean pushed his plate back, his appetite now long gone. "She stabbed a shifter who was wearing your face, Dean. Remember that. Don't push her." Sam knew damn well that Brielle would retreat into her own mind like she had before.

He pushed back from the table then and rose, intent on talking to the brunette who had him so enamored. Physically, Dean had her back, but emotionally, she was checked out. Determination set in his jaw, he left the kitchen, leaving his little brother and the blonde looking after him.

A/N:

Hello readers!

Still don't own the boys. (Damn.) Happy New Year! Hope you liked this. This one was kinda angsty, something I'm not real familiar writing, but hope it had the desired effect and tugged on your heartstrings. Love you guys! Let me know what y'all think!

CitrineMama


	15. Chapter 15

Brielle was staring at the water as it left the bathtub, swirling silently around the drain when a knock on the door startled her. She gripped the white towel around her torso even tighter, her damp hair brushing her bare shoulders as her head snapped to the door. "Brielle?"

"Yeah?" Her voice was softer now, not so full of fear. She heard the knob turn slowly and the door opened a bit.

"Hey." Dean's eyes met hers for a second before she averted her gaze, almost embarrassed. He kept his hand on the knob. "I came down to check on you." The brunette didn't say anything. "Can I get you anything?"

"I'm going to bed." Was all Brielle said.

"Can I tuck you in?" He moved into the bathroom slowly, moving to blow out the candles that were flickering on the countertop. His gaze settled on her face, but she still wouldn't look at him.

"Yeah." Dean followed her up the hall to her bedroom and she turned slightly, speaking to himover her left shoulder. "I'm going to put on pajamas." _Just_ _wait_ _here_ was implied and he cleared his throat nervously.

"Of course." That broke Dean's heart a little; they'd seen each other undressed hundreds of times and now she didn't even want to slip on some old tshirt and pants under her towel? He gave her a minute behind the closed door before he said her name. The door opened and she let him in, her hair combed and damp.

Dean was relieved to see his old tshirt on her frame, along with her purple pajama bottoms. She moved to the bed and stilled when he reached around her to pull back the covers so she could climb in.

Brielle settled down, curling up on her left side, facing the door. He pulled up the blankets to her chin and his left hand moved to brush her damp hair back from her face when he caught sight of a red mark on her neck.

She stiffened when he did so and his brow wrinkled slightly. "You want me to sit here while you sleep?"

"No."

"Can I kiss you goodnight?" Her eyes fluttered closed and his jaw clenched. "Okay. You let me know if you need me." Dean's hand itched to touch her in some way, but he refrained from doing so. "Night, Brie."

She didn't reply right away, then..."Lock the door please."

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Dean stalked out to the kitchen to find Sam and Camilla had finshed their food and wrapped his up for the refrigerator. "Dean?"

"This is so fucked up." He ground out. Camilla glanced at Sam, whose eyes were trained on his brother. "She won't even let me fuckin' _touch_ her. Did she let you check her out physically, Sam? Becuase I swear, there's something she ain't tellin' us."

"She told me she was fine... he hadn't hurt her."

"Well she's got some red ass burn mark on her neck. Saw it when I put her to bed." He slammed a closed fist on the table, making Camilla jump. "You need to check her out, Sam, because I can't." He rested his shaking hands on the tabletop, his head down, trying to get ahold of his emotions.

"Okay." Sam spoke softly. "I will in a few hours. She's not bleeding to death here. Let her try to get some rest. I will, brother, first thing." That made the muscles in Dean's shoulders relax some under his tshirt. "Go to bed. I'll check her in a few hours." He pushed off the kitchen table and stalked out of the kitchen, grabbing a half of bottle of jack on his way out.

"You wanna take me home, or..." Camilla asked softly. They both flinched when they heard Dean's bedroom door slam shut. "It's almost 3 am."

Sam made a face. "You absolutely have to get home right now? You wanna just stay?"

"I can stay... I just don't wanna be in the way here." He smiled down at the blonde.

"You wanna stay in one of the guest rooms or my room...?"

"Either way's fine with me." Camilla covered a yawn with her hand. "Lead the way."

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Dean was feeling buzzed. He hadn't drank like this in a year or so. His stomach was in knots over the events over the last 18 hours. He took another swig and hissed at the familiar burn. The very thought of Brielle still being tormented by something that was already dead made his blood boil.

She was obviously shoving something down, avoiding acknowledging the emotion she was trying to hide from him.

 _Wow. That sounds familiar,_ he thought bitterly.

Dean set the bottle on his nightstand and sighed before yanking off his tshirt and flannel. All's he wanted was for her to open her door and lift her covers for him to snuggle in close to her, figuratively and literally.

Let him pull her close and hold her, let her cry and not talk about it. Just let her feel.

He decided on a shower and padded down the hallway, shucking his clothing off in the bathroom before turning on the hot water. He washed his body absently as he thought about that shifter. Dean knew just how he'd weaseled his way past Brielle's radar; they could sort of download the memories of whoever they took the form of and play the part perfectly.

Nothing was striking him as strange until he suddenly wondered how, exactly, that Brielle knew it wasn't him. How had she been with him for hours and then suddenly realizing she was with an imposter? That blew his mind and he made a mental note to ask Sam about that in the morning.

The morning was now, he supposed, but he wasn't sure he was going to sleep anytime soon.

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The sounds of soft sobbing woke Dean up from the light doze he'd managed and he scrambled to throw on his lounge pants before he skidded out into the hallway, his eyes on Brielle's door. It was still locked and he swore before shouldering the old door open, breaking the lock.

Ignoring the pain his his right shoulder, Dean knelt at her bedside, his hands grasping her upper arms. "Brielle, it's me." She was thrashing around and gasped, sitting up suddenly, leaning on her left elbow as she tried to calm her pounding heart. "I'm here. You're safe." She resisted a bit, but Dean pulled her into his chest, hugging her close. "Don't push me away, sweetheart." He kissed the side of her head.

"I'm so sorry." Her broken whisper made his eyes close. Dean felt her sob silently this time, trying to hold back.

"Let it go." Was his only reply. "Let it go." That was all it took for her to lose it. Brielle sobbed openly into him and he shifted on his knees as she twisted towards him, still on her back. His skin was moist with her tears as she cried against his warm skin. "Sweetheart, lemme get you a tissue." Dean looked around her room, but came up empty. "Here." He pulled a tanktop out of her top nightstand drawer with his right hand. She took it from him to wipe her face and blow her nose into it.

Brielle sniffled and knew she must've looked like hell right then, but he just watched her sit up and swing her legs over the bed. He sat back on his heels a bit, taking her in. She wiped her nose again, avoiding his eyes. "Brielle, look at me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Becasue I _can't_."

Dean refrained from rolling his eyes at her vague reason. "Brielle, talk to me here. I don't know what to do to help you." His hand cupped her cheek, making her swollen eyes close. "Did that bastard hurt you?"

"No." Her eyes squeezed closed even more. "I can't." She moved away from his touch. "Please don't do this." Dean was genuinely confused and he moved to sit next to her.

"Brielle, you're scaring the hell out of me, here." His voice was quiet now. His arm came around her shoulders and he hugged her to his side. "I'm here, sweetheart. You're not alone. I won't leave." The brunette pushed away from him some.

"I'm going back to bed." Brielle mumbled and his shoulders slumped. He got up and she got back into bed, still holding the tanktop.

"I'm staying here." Dean didn't give her the option this time. He pulled the chair in the corner to her bedside and sat down. He turned down her lamp a notch. "I'm right here." His right hand moved to the bed next to her and she rolled over on her side to face him. Brielle slowly reached out to intertwine her fingers with his.

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Hey beautiful readers!

Hope you all had a wonderful week so far! Let me know what you think. Reviews are love!

CitrineMama


	16. Chapter 16

The brunette was sitting on the countertop in the bathroom as Sam mentally catalogged each small injury on the woman in front of him. "Brielle, how did you know that guy was a shifter?" Sam was more direct this morning and her eyes remained closed as he worked. "Brielle?"

"Sam, please don't." She yanked away from his touch as he eyed the red mark on her neck, her back against the mirror. "We're _not_ doing this right now."

"We are... how did you know? You must have been sure... to just stab the man you love right through the heart." That made her eyes snap open and move from his concerned gaze. "Tell me." Sam waited her out and saw her shoulders sag in obvious defeat. He was standing between her knees at the sink and Brielle shrugged uncomfortably, tugging her tshirt up around her neck, knowing where his hazel gaze was.

"I knew it wasn't Dean..." She whispered softly. "I told him I loved him and..."

"And what?" Sam got a sick feeling all of a sudden, his hands moving to the countertop next to her thighs.

"And he said it back, Sam." Brielle got angry and pushed him back from her. She slid down off the countertop to pace the cold tiles on the floor in front of him. "He fucking tells me he loves me." That made her laugh bitterly. "My Dean doesn't say that to me. _Ever_."

Sam felt his stomach drop and turned to look at the brunette. "That's how you knew?"

"Pretty fucked up, hm?" Brielle stopped pacing, finally looking him dead in the eye. "And ya wanna know what's even more fucked up that that, Sammy?" The dark tone in her voice made Sam started to shake his head, his mind slamming on the breaks in vain. His mind flashed back to the hotel room where they'd found her.

Her purse and books on the nightstand.

The clothing on the floor at the end of the bed near the body.

The disarray of the bed linens.

"Brie, no..."

"I had _sex_ with him, Sam. _Twice_." Sam's right hand closed into a fist and moved to his mouth. His eyes closed painfully, the furrow between his eyebrows deepening. "I can't even look Dean in the face after I did that." She gripped her hair as she leaned back against the bathroom door before sliding down to the bathroom floor. "We were having sex when I said that and when he said it back, I knew... I _fucking knew_ it wasn't Dean."

"So you stabbed him." _Fuck_.

"You know how fucked up it is to be on top of the man you love, when you realize he's not himself?" Her soft question penetrated his soul. "And the surprise in his eyes when I leaned over and pulled out my silver bookmark and held the metal to his chest? He writhed in pain when I touched it to his skin and I stabbed him." Her dark confession ended in a choked whisper and they were quiet for a moment. Sam's own eyes stung with tears and she was crying again. "I'm leaving Sam. I can't do this." She scrambled to her feet and was out the bathroom door and down the hall before he could even respond, still reeling from her confession.

When Sam got to her bedroom, Brielle had grabbed her bag out of her closet and started shoving clothing in until he reacted, trying to yank it out of her grip. "No you're not."

"You can't stop me." She ground out through gritted teeth, silent tears streaming down her face. She just shook her head as she looked up at one of the most important men in her life, her mind racing with anxiety. The brunette shoved her half full bag of clothing into his hands before she yanked open her bedroom door and bolted. Sam was hot on her heels and caught her in the war room. His strong hand wrapped around her upper arm and she was still crying when Dean entered the room after hearing their raised voices. "Sam?"

"I quit. I'm leaving!" She was yelling, not even noticing Dean standing there in the doorway, his wide eyes full of shock at the scene in front of him.

"No, you fucking can't. You don't _get_ to quit in this family."

Brielle tried to twist out of Sam's strong hold and her steely eyes flashed angrily and he couldn't help but to think that monsters looked at him with less anger. "Get your hands off me." Pause. "I'm done."

"Hey!" Dean's firm tone caused them both to pause in their yelling. His brother let go of her and Brielle slid to the bunker floor with a soft thud at Sam's feet, the fight in her gone, too much to bear. "The hell's going on?" He looked back and forth between them, utterly confused.

Sam's firey eyes focused on hers. "You fucking tell him what you just told me, or I will." He pointed to his brother.

Brielle started crying again and Dean was shocked; Sam and Brielle were literally fighting and arguing, using venemous tones he'd never heard them direct at one another. "Sam." Her voice wavered from the floor at his feet.

"Tell my brother," He paused. "Right now." Sam stalked out of the room, leaving her on the ground a few feet from Dean. She was crying again and they heard his bedroom door slam shut down the hallway behind Dean, echoing through the bunker.

"Sweetheart," He squatted next to her. "Please talk to me."

Brielle sighed defeatedly and scooted so her back was against the couch. He sat on the floor next to her, stretching out his long longs. "Dean, I knew it wasn't you." Something in her voice had changed as she wiped her eyes and sighed next to him, knowing he was going to be angry at her.

 _For letting her guard down._

"The shifter."

"Yes." Pause. "Please _please_ just let me say this and don't be mad." Brielle pleaded with the hunter next to her and felt his left arm come around her shoulders, the soft flannel he was wearing brushing against her bare arms. "Okay?" Insecurity washed over her right then, making her feel nauseaous.

"Mmhm." Dean murmured, his eyes on the coffee table in front of them, her hair against his cheek as he hugged her to his side.

"I knew it wasn't you... because I told him... told _you_... I loved you." Brielle waited for the explosion next to her.

"Okay." He sounded kind of confused. She took a deep breath.

"And he said it back to me." Beside her, Dean inhaled sharply.

"So you tell _not_ _me_ that you love me... and he said it back?" His tone was quiet. "That's how you knew?"

"I know you don't say it and I'm fine with that-," Dean cut her off.

"Fuck." He let his head fall back against the couch cushions, his arm still around her shoulders and Brielle dared a look over at the man next to her, terrified of what she'd see. "This is my fault. I'm so sorry Brie." Her mouth fell open at the unexpected response.

"Dean, no..."

He exhaled slowly, trying to collect his thoughts. "I was up all night, trying for the life of me to figure out just how that bastard slipped past you." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "When they morph into whoever they want, that person's memories come with the body. So you could've asked him anything about me and he would've known."

Brielle digested that information slowly. "So when I said it, how come he said it back when you never had?" A small smile appeared on his face, even though he wasn't looking at her.

"Because I do." Dean said quietly. "I don't say it out loud, but I hoped you knew how I felt about ya." His face turned towards hers and he studied her closely, her eyes on his for the first time in 48 hours. "You know, right?" It was his turn to have a careful tone, not wanting to upset Brielle any further.

"I know." Brielle murmured softly. They were quiet for a minute before she spoke again. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"There's... more." He shifted a bit next to her and she took a shaky breath, her heart pounding in her chest. Dean felt her tense up next to him before she took a couple of deep breaths, trying to prepare herself to admit to the man she loved what else had happened.

"You know what?" Dean turned to look down at the brunette, leaning in to brush a kiss to her lips. "As long as you're okay, I don't need to hear the rest." He remembered the mark on her neck; it was a hickey, not some burn. He could put two and two together. She stared at him, wide eyed in shock over his obvious trust in her. "You're okay, right?" There was no anger in his tone, only concern for her emotional state.

"Yeah, but Dean..."

"Brielle, whatever happened in that hotel room," The hunter's forehead was against hers, both of their eyes closing at the gesture. "As far as that's concerned, it's a non issue. Shit happens. As long as he didn't hurt you, we're good." Brielle's arms slid around Dean's neck and she hugged him tight, the guilt melting off her shoulders at his sweet words. His arms came around her torso and his lips brushed her temple.

Maybe it wasn't the most romantic way for Dean to tell her how much he loved and trusted her, but it was more than enough for Brielle.

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Hey y'all!

Only one more chapter to go! Thanks for the reviews and PMs from chapter 15! I'm kinda dying to know what you thought about this chapter. Have a wonderful week, beautiful readers!

CitrineMama


	17. Chapter 17

A/N:

Last chapter! Here we go!

CitrineMama

Sam had put away the leftovers from their christmas eve dinner; the rest of the spiral ham, deviled eggs, roasted potatoes and green bean casserole. Camilla had even stopped by on the way to her mother's house to drop off a gift for Brielle. Sam had actually asked Camilla out for coffee when he'd walked her back out to her car, making sure she would text him when she got to her mom's house.

When he shut off the kitchen light to head to his bedroom for the evening, he noticed that the lights were all off in the war room, but a soft glow had managed to reach all the way into the hallway of the sleeping quarters. Wondering who left a lamp on, Sam headed down to shut out the light.

The hunter padded down the hallway quietly, realizing the christmas tree lights were still twinkling. He smiled a little to himself, almost positive that this was the first christmas tree that had ever graced the men of letters bunker. He entered into the room, halting when he heard soft music playing on the vintage record player next to the bookshelf.

His eyes caught sight of movement on the couch and Sam moved closer. Dean was laying on the couch, ankles crossed comfortably. Brielle was cuddled against him on her right side, her head on his chest while she slept soundly. His left arm was around her shoulders and his right hand was on his chest, his fingers entertwined with hers. He raised his eyes to Sam's as he stood over the pair from behind the couch, a soft smile playing across his features in the soft glow of the white lights, his dimple deepening.

Dean glanced over at the brunette snuggled against him before meeting his brother's gaze again. His phone was on the coffee table in front of the couch, the ringer turned off. The soft, slow music still playing, the scratchy sound making him feel right at home. "I'm headin' to bed." Sam spoke softly, not wanting to wake Brielle. "You guys turnin' in soon?"

"Yeah," Dean pressed a kiss to her messy hair. "In a bit."

Sam pulled the blanket off the arm chair next to the couch and covered the pair with it. "Brielle looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, Dean." He straightened up, noticing his brother's sleepy smile. "You know?"

"I don't know about _that_ ," Dean breathed. "She just... looks at me like I'm somethin' worth looking _at_... y'know?" His squeezed her fingers gently before bringing their hands to his lips, kissing the backs of her knuckles before resting their hands back on his chest. "It's crazy."

"What is?" Sam asked quietly as he moved to the back of the couch, his brother's eyes following his movement.

Dean sighed softly, not wanting to wake Brielle, but needing to have this moment with his younger brother. "To finally have someone... I've always needed."

"Glad you got everything you wanted for Christmas." Sam felt his own heart swell in his chest at his brother's obvious contentment, his hands on the back of the couch as he looked down at the pair. "See you in the morning, jerk."

That made the older man smile. "Merry Christmas, bitch."

A/N:

Hello beautiful readers!

I don't know about you, but the whole jerk/bitch thing between Sam and Dean _still_ makes me smile and I thought it was a nice way to finish off this story. I'm _dying_ to know what you thought overall. Hope you all have a wonderful week! Make sure you all check out the two new stories I'm working on right now, ( **Zemblanity** and **Juno** ), as well as **Oil and Vinegar**. O and V is a series of one shots pre-relationship between Brielle and Dean. :) Reviews are love!

CitrineMama


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